


Pinstripe Suits and Stupid Hats

by Mierda



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bottom Sniper, Changing roles, Cold Weather, Cuddles, Double Penetration, Dysphoria, Established Relationship, F/M, Flashfire - Freeform, Fluff, Gender Neutral, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, LGBT friendly :), Light BDSM, Love Confessions, M/M, Medic cool too, Name a more iconic family, Oops, Oral Sex, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Praise Kink, Reader may have a vagina, Sex, Sex Arrangements, Sex Toys, Sick!Reader, Sickness, Slow Burn, Smut, They/Them reader - Freeform, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Sniper, Top Spy, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trans! Scout, bottom reader, bottom spy, cis man reader, cis woman reader, i’ll wait, pyro is BFF, reader may have a Spy or Sniper in their pants, reader may have a penis, slight angst, sorry - Freeform, taking care, top reader, trans man reader, trans woman reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:10:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mierda/pseuds/Mierda
Summary: You’re in a relationship with two men. Two men who are mercenaries. Two men who are mercenaries who are well trained in the art of stealth and fuckery.Oh boy.





	1. double penetration (Sniper/Reader/Spy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You promised them, and you did not fulfill it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thanks for stopping by :D
> 
> Some tags are confusing by you’ll see what I mean as more chapters are up. Also hmu with some requests or prompts for this series :)
> 
>  
> 
> i. “double penetration” (NSFW) Sniper/Reader/Spy
> 
> character notes : Reader is Trans Man and has received Top Surgery only

“Alright, come on! Everybody out, it’s almost 11:30!” You had shouted as you wandered in from the “kitchen”. Everybody looked at you with confused stares. “It’s ceasefire tomorrow! We can party all day and all night!” And so, following your command now that they had a good reason, everyone got off their butts and started to walk towards their respective quarters.

“Everybody better sleep in ‘till noon!” You had called again. “And so god help me, Medic, if I walk by and see that stupid light in your laboratory, I will personally kick your ass!” Medic turned to look at you with a sheepish look on his face and his hands raised up in defeat. “Same goes for you, Engie!” Engineer simply chuckled before having to cover his mouth in preparation for a small yawn.

Some of the men lingered for a moment to wish you a good night and to thank you for your concern and your ever present demand that the men maintain certain aspects of normal lives now lost. However, you did have to pry a Pyro who insisted on helping you away from the work that you also insisted on claiming as yours, and yours alone.

“Py, come on, you have to get some rest.” You had squatted down to tell him but he still refused to list and started to push some of the trash from the floor into a small pile. You had to physically restrain him and bring him up and off his knees. “Come on, please? Go to bed for me?” It sounded weird to any stranger, however when you lived with men who practically married their guns and killed almost everyday for a living, they would realize you did what you could to make them happy.

When Pyro finally nodded head, making the nose of his gas mask flop a bit, you smiled and walked him to the doorway, kissed the nose of his gas mask, and wished him a good night. You always wanted to make the lives of these men at least a little more normal, so when you were hired you immediately set some ground rules. Some of the Mercs has concerns about your odd rules but others - namely Scout - laid back and eagerly lapped up the easy life ticket you were handing him in a silver, no, golden platter. Your rules had mainly consisted of how you would be doing most of the work around the RED base since they were risking their lives multiple times a day for some briefcase. You enjoyed it, the tedious work.

When the boys were out, you went into their rooms and made their beds and set to work cooking something that would soothe their nerves and finish their adrenaline. They appreciated you - from what you could tell - and you cared from them in return. 

“Leaving so soon, _mon chéri_?”  
“No need to spoil all the fun, mate.”

You turned around quickly, startled slightly at the sudden cut of silence from those two voices you could distinguish from a mile away.  
“Snipes, Spy. What are you two still doing here?” You asked, raising a hand to your chest from the sudden scare.

“Did you not hear the words you had just spoken, _mon chéri_? Everybody must get to bed.” Spy was the first to get up and confront you, his strides long and elegant as he walked up to you, talking one of your hands into his own.

“Are you tellin’ us that you ain’t ‘everybody’, Roo?” Sniper soon followed Spy’s example and took advantage of his own equally long legs (damn their height, you thought quietly to yourself) and made his way to you with ease. However, Sniper places his body behind your own and with the two of them combined, they ruled out any possible get-away opportunities.

“Come to bed with us.” You weren’t sure who said that, perhaps it was both of them, but you were determined to finish the job that Pyro had attempted to start.

“Guys, please-” you chuckled as Spy lifts your captured hand teasing places small kisses all over your hand and fingers. “Spy, stop that!” You ordered, playfully. “Come on, you know I’m nobody here, so that means I’m not everybody!” You smiled as you spoke, the two men’s affections delighted you to no end.

However, you words didn’t seem to make your partners smile. Spy’s hardened glare did not go pass you and if you could see Sniper, you’re sure he would be glaring as well. You didn’t know why their looks suddenly hardened, but whatever you did wrong, it made them both back up.

Spy, of course, was the first to compose himself. “I trust we will be seeing you in bed, eventually?”

“Tonight, preferably.” Sniper mused sarcastically, his fingers drumming against your hip.

“Yes, I’ll get in bed as soon as I can.” You placed your hand over Sniper’s, stopping his finger tips. “I promise.”

Both men withdrew from your body and worked their way towards the doorway.

“We’ll be holdin’ ya to that, Roo.”

You watched them go in the direction of Spy’s chambers before turning around and looking at the mess of a living room before you. You also had to finish the dishes too. On top of that, you wanted to get breakfast done. Oh boy. 

•••

You woke up to a slight tapping on your shoulder, your eyelids slowly inching their way open as you tried propping yourself off the arm of the couch. “Medic?”

“Oh, you’re avake! Velcome to zhe land of zhe living, _mein freund_!” Medic joked.

“Medic, so god help me, if you’ve been up...”

“Ah no! Believe me, _mein freund_ , I’ve only just gotten up!” Medic turned around to point at the shatter clock that for some reason, is still able to tell the time. “Besides, it’s past noon!”

You sighed at those words, rubbing your tired eyes. You paused. Shit, you said you’d return to Spy’s chambers as soon as you were done with cleaning and preparing for the morning! You hoped that both Spy and Sniper immediately went to sleep and figured that you just got up early to distribute breakfast... but you knew better than that.

“I’ve already laid out zhe plates and zhe food for you, if zhat’s alright. You have outdone yourself, yet again.” Medic said again.

You turned to him and nodded, an appreciative smile on your face. “Thanks, Medic.”

Medic looked out at the breakfast table, a confused look on his face. “Although I noticed there vere only _neun_ plates set out. Vhere is your plate?” Medic asked.

You started getting off the couch before a slight pain in your neck erupted. Probably from your awkward position on the small couch. “I wasn’t gonna eat breakfast today, Medic. I have some more things I need to do, might as well get a head start.”

Medic sighed. “Please don’t overvork yourself, mein freund. You do so much for us already.”

“I won’t.” You smiled and Medic smiled back.

You opted to stay curled up on the couch and watch as the waking men came trickling in for their breakfast.

They sat at their usual locations, except for Pyro who picked up his plate and came bounding eagerly over to the couch to sit with you. You didn’t protest and Pyro happily helped himself to the blanket, wrapping your shoulders and his within its fuzziness.

Soldier was loud, Pyro was cuddly, Heavy’s laugh occasionally boomed through the room, and Scout continued to boast about yesterday’s epic battle. Many men stood up to gather seconds and before long everyone had gathered in the cramped kitchen space to laugh and share some good times.

But you realized that the kitchen was missing two men.

Both Sniper and Spy were nowhere to be seen and once you asked Pyro - whose room is a couple doors down from Spy’s - Pyro shook his mask and shrugged his shoulders.

“How odd, they’re both some of the first ones to get up.” You mumbled and Pyro kindly replaced the falling blanket back around your shoulder. “Maybe I should check on them? One of them may be ill, that battle was rather brutal...”

You stood up from your place on the couch and helped Pyro rearrange the large blanket around himself before announcing that you’ll be away for a bit. You almost could’ve sworn you saw Demo and Scout share a small chuckle while Medic responded to your announcement with a knowing grin. You left with a purpose and a rather confused look on your face. Demo’s boisterous cackle echoes throughout the hallway once you left.

You followed the hallways, your fingertips tracing the weathered material as you allowed your legs to carry you to your destination. In almost no time at all, you stood before Spy’s door and paused to listen.

Nothing.

You knocked lightly on the door and paused to listen again.

Again, nothing.

You tried the knob, it was unlocked. You slowly pushed the door open, allowing the light from the hallway to illuminate the oddly pitch-black room. You stepped in.

Nothing.

You continued to walk forward and you saw a figure lazily seated on the edge of the bed that was tucked away in the corner. You figured it was Sniper, as Spy wouldn’t be caught dead seated in such a manner. You were about to speak when the door behind you shut by itself. You didn’t shut that door because you needed the light the hallway had offered. Now, you were surrounded by pitch black darkness, and no way out.

“So wonderful for you to join us, _mon chéri_.” You heard Spy say and you attempted to look around to see him, but he managed to slip a blindfold over your eyes, his arms wrapping around your body not even a second later. His arms traveled to your wrists, manipulating them so they were behind your back, before he tied them together.

“Spy-“

“Now, now, _mon chéri_. For this experience, I don’t think you will be wanting to have a gag in that pretty mouth of yours, _non_?” Spy chided, using the grip he had on your bound arms to push you forward. He pushed you forward until your knees hit that tall bed frame, causing you to loose balance and fall forward, your face cushioned by the fabric of a shirt. 

“Well, what do ya have here, Spook?” Sniper’s awful long arms encased you in a prison as his words stung you. He leaned down to murmur against the shell of your ear. “I though’, las’ night I said ‘tonight’. I though’ ya knew better than tha’, Roo.” His voice whispered and gently caressed your ear with cold movements, his voice dropping.

“I-I know, I’m sor-“

You stopped yourself when you heard Spy chuckle.

“Oh, we will make you sorry, _jouet_.” Spy rubbed your bound wrists as he practically purred in your ear. “We will make you scream sorry so loud, the men will hear you from the BLU base.” Oh boy.

••• 

And so here you were, one dick shoved up your ass while another was down your throat. Your skin was covered in hickies, the dark marks bit their up your thighs, your neck, your spine and even your lower back. Every other part of your skin was either a deep red or a flushed pink. Spy’s hands clawed at your thighs and sides while Sniper’s fingers had a death grip on your skull, neither keen on letting you go for a long time.

Spy hunched over your back, causing your legs to shudder from the burden (these damn idiots refused to unbind you, so you were awkwardly sandwiched between the two men with no real support as both men were fifteen-feet deep in pleasure), his slurred voice eagerly allowed French curses to flow through and roll over your sensitive skin. Sniper was huffing and swearing through clenched teeth, his fingers flexed in your hair while his other hand held the base of his dick for you - the bastard dared to say “lemme lend ya a hand” before you deep-throated him in payback for such a terrible pun.

You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue swishing and caressing the throbbing mass in your mouth, only allowing yourself to let go of Sniper’s cock (with a *pop!*) to back-track and teasingly lick your way down the bottom of the organ, pausing to run your tongue over throbbing veins, while controlling your movements was only a little difficult due to Spy’s thrusting.

Spy’s claws-for-hands left light pink trails in their wake down your thighs and across your sides as he nailed into your ass. At one point; he leaned all the wall down so the curve of your back aligned perfectly with his chest and abdomen, picked your cheekbone and the shell of your ear before whispering: “ _Tu dois aimer ça; être pris par deux hommes en même temps avec à peine assez d’espace pour bouger ou respirer. Salope_.” and pressing a kiss against your jawline, all before straightening his back and fucking you as though nothing had just happened. Fucking Bastard. Spy would also adjust his angle from which he rammed into you, just to spice things up. He would fuck you straight and then all of a sudden, he’d adjust and a part of your inner walls that had never come into such explicit contact with, well, anything would be utterly destroyed. Your moans would vibrate through your throat and sent a shiver through Sniper.

Sniper’s death grip on your skull started to take control of your actions and soon, with every forceful bob of your head, his dick would jam down your throat each time. His moans were no longer curses through gritted teeth but loud and deep groans of approval. Spy, damned bastard he is, took note of Sniper’s new reactions and slowed down. You internally groaned with sexual frustration as Spy slowed down to a complete stop, soon slipping out and purposefully leaving an angry red trail down your outer thigh. Sniper also eventually slowed down as the beginnings of an orgasm and sticky semen started to trickle down the back of your throat. He drew out of your mouth as an especially long trail of semen shot out and attacked you, dripping down one side of your nose and face.

Sniper chuckled and brought a hand to smear his work across your cheek, rubbing it into your skin while his other hand (helpfully?) propped up your chin. Although you couldn’t see him, you really hoped he had a stupid dopey grin on his face and an impressive flush in his cheeks.

“Ah, S-Spy. Your suit.” You made an attempt to look back but Sniper’s hold kept you there.

“No need to worry, _mon chéri_. My suit is taken care of.” Spy haunches over slightly again, the curve of your ass finding his pelvis and his hands travelled down your chest. You shuddered as you knew what he was looking for. His fingers rubbed your scars and he kissed your lower back. “However, while I appreciate the concern, I believe my suit is the least of your worries.”

Sniper’s fingers left your chin and Spy’s presence left your entire body and you were left alone. You couldn’t see so although you were certain no one got off the bed, it felt as though you were an animal on display, alone in the zoo as the room was shrouded in silence. Suddenly, Spy’s arms wrapped around your abdomen and Sniper’s hands pushed at your chest, the teamwork easily lifted you from your position on all four to your position sandwiched between Spy and Sniper.

You whimpered. “Pl-please...”

“Please what, Roo?” Sniper murmured, hot breath gliding across your collar bone.

“Please take off the blindfold.” You finished with a needy sigh, your arms also fidgeting behind your back, aching to touch the men you love so dearly.

“Hmm, what do ya think, Spook?” Sniper removed himself from your collar bone and leaned over your shoulder, his lips almost directly across from your ear.

You could feel Spy’s body shift as he leaned forward too, the sound of a kiss sounded right next to your ear.

“ _Non_.”

You shifted a little more at that response, your elbows knocking against Spy’s clothed abdomen. “Please, Spy. Please.” You begged.

Spy let his chin rest against your bare shoulder, a light hum coming from his lips. “What you are asking us to do is to reward you, _mon chéri_ ,” he began, his throat gently colliding against your shoulder blade as he spoke “do you think you should be rewarded?”

You were silent, your body stopped fidgeting and your breathing seemed to slow for a moment. You whimpered softly and Spy chuckled. “With our most recent events, I do not believe you should be rewarded.”

Sniper sighed, joking of course, and began to kiss the spots on the blindfold where your eyes were supposed to be, hidden by the evil cloth. “Evil bastard.”

“My words exactly.” You murmured.

“And for that, (y/n), I shall only use one finger.” Spy chuckled as your head turned around quickly and your lips tried to form words, imitating the actions of a fish out of water. Spy smirked and leaned in to steal a kiss, always the opportunist.

His tongue slipped past your unprepared lips and into your mouth, intertwining with your own, slightly startled, tongue. Spy’s hand traveled down your abdomen and met with your vagina, tapping at the top of your slit before only using one finger to rub your genitalia at an agonizingly slow pace. You couldn’t help but moan into his smirk.

Sniper started to lay waste to your nude body, preparing your skin for even more blossoming hickies, placing some in impossible places where you know you wouldn’t be able to hide them without a Band-AID peeking through some sleeves. His hands trailing up and down your thighs, tapping quietly over claw marks Spy had left behind with his stupid-ass nails. The pressure from Sniper’s palms almost non-existent.

Spy parted with your lips, a small trail of saliva still connected your lips before the slightest draft within the room broke the connection, sending chills up your spine. Spy sighed before stating, “Well, I suppose we could adhere to your request.”

Sniper chuckled before letting go of the skin covering your ribs and bring his arms up to untie the blindfold.

The soft material of the blindfold caressed your cheek as it dangled in Sniper’s grip before being thrown to some corner of the room, already forgotten. You opened your eyes not knowing when you had closed them in the first place.

“

Th-thank you.” You smiled softly, looking at Sniper before placing a soft kiss to his lips, about to turn around when Sniper’s hand grabbed the back of your sore skull, keeping you in place as he attacked your lips himself, his tongue eagerly barging through your lips and making a mess of you. His tongue caressed your teeth and played with your own tongue, his hands idly gripping your rib cage. Spy simply smiled as he watched the kiss, his finger on your clit joined by another and the added pressure made you incorporate a newfound arousal into your kiss, in turn making Sniper kiss back with a newfound ferocity.

The two of you parted, no saliva trail, and you left a peck on his nose. You turned your head slightly to kiss the cheek of Spy’s mask, his lips brushing sensually against the material.

“You two should undress more.” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders as you leaned back into Spy’s chest. Taking note of the only items missing from Sniper were his hat, gloves, vest, and shades while the only two items missing from Spy were gloves and a cigarette, which will no doubt find its back between Spy’s teeth by morning.

“One reward at a time, Roo.” Sniper chuckled.

You also chuckled, almost chocking as your chuckle turned into an unexpected gasp. You looked down your body to see Spy’s fingers no longer on your vagina but edging their way inside it, nestled deeply between your folds. Sniper reached down, gripping the insides of your thighs and pushing them outward, exposing you more to the newfound chill of the room.

Your fingers started to shake around, desperately trying to find something to grip onto from their bound position behind your back. You gasp as Spy started scissoring his fingers inside you, thrusting in and out. Sniper moved himself a little farther away, the bed softly creaking as Sniper leaning down to your pussy and started to lick the outsides, his tongue occasionally lapping at Spy’s fingers. You moaned, long and soft, the feeling of being finger-fucked and stretched and then also licked at the same time overcoming your senses. Your fingertips started to brush against Spy’s skin in a desperate attempt at contact.

Sniper’s tongue started to dip fast the boundaries of your folds, following the fingers and trying to wrap around them while also brushing against you in your more sensitive areas.

You started to grind onto Spy’s fingers and Sniper’s face, groaning quietly, murmuring swears and curses from all available languages your clouded mind could conjure up. “Please don’t stop - don’t you dare stop, please, please, please!” You moaned and begged, your own orgasm building up and blossoming in your lower regions. You started to pick up the pace, your grinding become slightly faster and your moans louder as fingers and tongue pumped into your body. 

And suddenly, they stopped.

You gasped at the loss. Your orgasm was right around the corner and you were ready, oh god, you were so fucking ready.

Whoever said Spy is a gentleman clearly never fucked him.

“Why-Why did you stop?” You asked, panting.

Spy simply chuckled as he brushed his fingers over Sniper’s tongue, your juices completely covering the Rogue’s skin and now going down Sniper’s throat. You couldn’t help but peer down to watch as Sniper lapped at Spy’s fingers with an unspoken expertise.

“We have bigger plans.”

Sniper sat up and Spy retreated his hand completely and you looked back at Spy in questioning. You didn’t have long to get lost in his mesmerizing eyes, however, as the two yet again worked together to flip you around: your back pressed against Sniper’s chest and your thighs now being held apart by Spy from your front.

Sniper’s hands joined Spy’s and your ass wasn’t really touching the delicate covers of the bed anymore as the two men held you up. “ _Prêt_?” You felt Sniper nod against your backside. You gasped.

Spy centered his cock, aiming it at your pussy, before slowly pushing the tip in - the juices that still stuck to his skin acted as lubricant and the process wasn’t exactly as painful as you originally thought it would be. You leaned back against Sniper’s chest as he kissed both your shoulder and the side of your neck, murmuring sweet nothings as Spy eased into you. Your thighs trembled in their hold and you struggled to keep yourself still. You moaned as Spy gradually began to fill you up, the folds of your pussy eating up his dick and eventually, all of him was inside you, placed comfortable within your clenching walls. 

Spy smirked at the stage you were in right now; your face flushed, your eyes half lidded, you thighs trembling, and your lips slightly parted as you panted. Sniper stopped nipping at your neck - his tongue coming out and gently rolling over his most recent mark - and he let go of your thighs, kneading the skin gently before fully letting go.

Spy also let go of your thighs, his fingertips trailing up your sides as his palms passed a highway of bruises and bite marks, stopping at the middle of your abdomen, his hands cupping the skin there. He looked back at Sniper again and said again, “ _Prêt_?”. Sniper nodded once more.

Spy leaned in to capture your mouth, his hands - and the new addition of Sniper’s palm on the middle of your back - pushing you so your chest was against Spy’s, his arms supporting you in compensation for your ( **still!** ) bound arms. Sniper grabbed your wrists and held them still. You were still rather confused as to what the actual hell was going on, until you felt the tip of Sniper’s dick at your entrance. You were tempted to break the kiss, your pride of figuring out what these men were leading up to was great but Spy’s need for you was greater and he placed a hand at the back of your head to keep you in place. You moaned as Sniper started to push in. It was a relatively easy feat, seeing as how Spy was pounding your ass earlier, so your ass was completely filled in no time at all.

Spy let you go, as though he just remembered you still needed to breathe, and looked behind you at their combined efforts.

“D-double penetration? I thought you said only one reward at a time.” You chuckled. You breathing quickened as you tried to adjust the feeling of two dicks in you at one. “You spoil me.”

Sniper laughed and Spy kissed you once more - a small peck on the lips - before leaning over your shoulder and connecting with Sniper. The sounds of a wet tongue kiss sounded right next to you ear and you groaned at the erotic sounds. They parted and you know that Spy intentionally made that awful noise loud because you could feel his nose brush your ear.

“You alrigh’, Roo?” Sniper asked behind you, his hand gently rubbing your hip and side.

“Take your time, _mon chéri_.” Spy used his hand to fiddle with your chest, his weird fascination with your scars taking over him as he caressed them. “We can wait.” He murmured.

“‘M fine, really.” You falsely claimed but as soon as you moved your thighs to adjust a bit, the mass of two cocks invading your two entrances and squeezing the flesh between suddenly made a shot of pain surge through your body, and you immediately stopped in your tracks.

“ _Honnêtement_.” Spy sighed, almost in annoyance, as his free hand traveled down your body to support your lower half by grabbing you hip, opposite the one Sniper was playing with. “We waited all night for you to come to bed, we can wait a little while longer to fuck you.” Your breathing faltered for a moment due to the surprise and guilt as those words were spoken a little too coldly, the guilt probably creeping trough to your eyes.

“But, you’ve been doin’ so good, mate.” Sniper quickly chipped in, nipping the base of your neck. “So fuckin’ good.”

Spy smiled as he saw the blush blossom across your cheeks, the guilt fading away as you sighed in frustration, but also relief. Sniper was great at knowing how both you and Spy ticked and was a pro at using these facts to his advantage. He may not exactly be the best at social cues with the rest of the RED team or getting his opinions across but damn, when it came to pleasing and comforting either you or Spy, he was great at it. 

Spy nodded as he kissed your throat. “ _Prends ton temps_.”

So you stayed like that for a few more minutes. You breathed in through your nose and out your mouth, your hips squirming just to see if the feeling changed with the movements. Sniper and Spy doing their best to keep their hips from twitching. You moved your hips and noted how the pain faded away.

You looked at Spy who was busy with your chest and throat, and his stupid infatuation with your chest scars. Not really paying attention to you, waiting for you to say “I’m ready”.

You looked at Sniper who was busy rubbing your hip and sides, his fingertips dancing over your hickies and his face looking down at his work. Not really paying attention to you, waiting to say “I’m ready”.

Oh, you’ll say “I’m ready” all right.

You lifted your hips more and more, ever so slightly and before Spy could stop you, you let your hips drop, effectively taking both men by surprise. You repeated the process, riding their two dicks are once - thankful that you were so wet through your this entire ordeal as you easily kept both men at bay as you continued to ride them.

Sniper gasped, his hand faltered before it settled firmly on your hip, trying to help you maintain your balance with your ( **still!** ) bound hands. Spy, you could tell quite easily what with his childish pout behind his pleased look, was debating between stopping you and proceeding to fuck you his way or allowing you to keep riding him and giving you payback later. Either he’s still debating, or he went with the last option. You giggled quietly to yourself, leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth before twisting your torso to do the same to Sniper.

You continued to ride them for awhile, peppering your two men with kisses every now and again. You were the first to come, your thighs stinging slightly as they turned sore - the bites and bruises Spy and Sniper left didn’t help your predicament at all. However, with load groans and equally loud moans, you managed to ride through your orgasm and keep riding until these bastards came as well. Sometimes you just surprise yourself with how generous you can be.

Spy was the first to go (seeing as how he had denied himself orgasm at the start of your make-out session in favor of teasing you, this honestly didn’t really surprise you all that much), his seed covering your stomach as he somehow managed to pull out of your pussy amongst all the madness. He was still kind enough to support you as you continued to ride Sniper.

He came moments after Spy did, his dick slipping out of your ass and his semen draped over your thigh. You breathed heavily, your whole body shaking as you collapsed onto the bed, your mind register the fact that the covers were spiked as an after-thought. You closed your eyes, before opening them up again and looking at Spy and Sniper. They looked at you before looking at each other and chuckling.

“I’ll go grab a cloth.” Sniper stood up and wobbled his way to the bathroom. He came back with a warm cloth and rearranged your limbs so he could get to the semen on your skin. He also took care to gently wipe your pussy and ass, just in case and he also undid the rope that tied your wrists together, the two of you sharing a sheepish look as you looked at the black and blue bruises lining your wrists. He also wiped down his dick and did the same for Spy. He placed the cloth down on the edge of the sink before quickly wobbling his way back. You couldn’t help but giggle quietly at his walk. It reminded you of a newborn deer.

Both Sniper and Spy dragged their tired bodies up to the top of the bed and you slowly and very reluctantly did the same, collapsing once more on plush pillows that are fit for Kings.

All three of you sighed in contentment as you all huddled together in a comforting heat of warm and familiar bodies.

“You don’t realize what effect you have on us. You are everything to us.” Spy murmured as he kissed your jaw.

“You ain’t nobody to us.” Sniper whispered.

Your eyes widened as you realized what the two men were upset about last night. You laughed again, unable to help yourself.

“Thanks.” Was all you could whisper back. “I love you guys.” You’re quiet announcement was met with another “I love you” and a French sentence that was muffled, but I sentence you could only guess meant “I love you”.  
Sniper took one wrist and Spy took the other, gently kissing the pale bruises they left behind and settling your wrists down on your stomach, their gentleness reminded you of how Spy handles his cigarettes and Sniper his guns.

“You will not leave this bed until we permit you and you will not be allowed to even think about work.” Spy spoke suddenly, his tone the very definition of seriousness.

“We’ll bring you food when you’re hungry.” Sniper chipped again.

“We will also tie your ankles to this very bed if we have to.” Spy threatened.

“Okay! Okay!” You laughed. “No work, I got it. I got it.”

With that, all three of you settled comfortably together, basking in the after sex glow.

••• 

“What about tomorrow. I can still work tomorrow right?”

“ _Mon chéri_...” Spy growled.

“Stop talkin’, Roo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mein Fruend - my friend  
> Neun - nine  
> ~  
> Mon Chéri - honey, my good man  
> Jouet - toy, plaything  
> Non - no  
> Tu dois aimer ça; être pris par deux hommes en même temps avec à peine assez d’espace pour bouger ou respirer. Salope. - you must like it, being taken by two men at the same time with barely enough space to move or breathe. Slut.  
> Prêt - ready  
> Honnêtement - honestly  
> Prends ton temps - take your time  
> ~  
> Roo - a baby Kangaroo, an idiot, fool, or clumsy person


	2. comfort (Sniper/Spy/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy’s been out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Children! You should totally check out @nutmegtf2 on Tumblr! He does some great SniperSpy stuff and I love all of it! The art is really cute and funny :) I highly recommend checking him out! He does some great stuff :D <3
> 
> ii. “comfort” (SFW) Sniper/Reader/Spy
> 
> character notes : SPOILERS FOR THE TF2 COMIC, “BLOOD IN THE WATER” AND “OLD WOUNDS”!! Reader is a fully transitioned male / a cis man if you prefer :)

 

Spy sighed again, quietly, an almost unnoticeable sigh if you weren’t watching him like a hawk. Sniper must’ve noticed too because he looked at you with a questioning glint in his eyes. 

  “What’s wrong with Spook?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

  “I don’t know, Snipes.” Was all you could really answer. There was pain in your voice, and Sniper had to have been deaf if he didn’t end up hearing it. 

  You all had issues. For fucks sakes you were mercenaries, trained to kill and yet still trying to live a normal life. All three of you had baggage, that much was also evident. 

  Sniper died, he’s literally fucking died before and every time you or Spy has to look at his chest, you both have to hide the pain of knowing you couldn’t have been there or you didn’t react fast enough. Every time he looks in the mirror, he has to live with that too. 

  You’ve changed. You’re a man but here you are with a baby’s face. Here you are competing with Engineer in the “who’s the shortest” competition you didn’t even know you were competing in. You’ve managed to completely get a full change with the help of Medic and you’re happy with yourself. But there can be some days and every single time, you’re reminded of things inside you can’t ever change.

 

But Spy...

 

Well, Spy was your rock.

 

When Sniper was having one of those days - refuse to shower together, take off his shirt during sex, etcetera - Spy would smile, kiss him on the cheek and pray for him that the pipes still had warm water left after having seen Pyro walking out with a certain shine. Spy would reach over you to Sniper and kiss his chest through his shirt, knowing perfectly well where those dastardly stitches lay, kissing each thread as much as humanly possible. He’d support Sniper in ways you could not.

  When you were in the bathroom for over ten minutes with no shower water running, Spy would cloak himself and open the door to the bathroom ever so slightly, walk up behind you to see you staring in the mirror, you eyes casted downward as you looked down at your nude body. He’d appear behind you and embrace you from behind, kiss your spine and shoulder blades  and murmur sweet words against your skin. He’d lead you out of the bathroom, sit you down on his bed and love you through and through, all with statements of love and adoration pouring out of his lips. He could support you in ways Sniper couldn’t. 

  But when it came time that Spy was in dire need of support and refused to allow the two of you to be good partners, then what could you do? Spy was the greatest at hiding things from you, it was part of his job description after all. 

  You were torn from your thoughts as you heard Spy sigh again and felt Sniper squeeze your hand. You took a breath in, breathed it out, and prayed to whatever God might be out there that this room would remain empty as you stood up. 

  “Spy, what’s wrong?” You asked, walking up to him and grabbing the back of the chair he sat in, leaning your forehead against the top of his ski-mask (Spy would sometimes correct you, saying that it was technically called a Balaclava, just to piss you off, all with a smile on his face and that damned mischievous glint in his eyes). 

  “Nothing.” He breathed out. You knew something was wrong when he didn’t call you some embarrassing nickname in French as he always did. 

  “Then tell me what’s on your mind.” You tried again. “Anything.”

  Spy breathed out smoke, some escaping from his nose. “I was just pondering.” 

  “Ponderin’ about what?” Sniper joined in as he stood up himself, slipping his hand in his pocket to grab his own cigarette. You were tempted to have one too, but focused on the task at hand. 

 

You were met with silence.

 

“Is it Scout?” You asked in a hushed whisper.

  “I wish it was that easy.” He answered. 

  “Then tell us, Spook.” 

 

“I don’t want to.” He admitted with a sigh. “I can’t. _Je suis désolé_. I know it must seem rather childish of me.”

  “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, don’t apologize, mate.” Sniper was in front of Spy, grabbing at his arms, coaxing him to stand up as you removed your forehead from his mask. 

  “Let’s watch the Television!” You suggested with a grin while Sniper held Spy in his arms. 

  Spy looked at you and outstretched his arm towards you with his hand held out and open, you took his hand and he smiled. “ _Ça sonne bien, mon chéri._ ” 

  So you led him to the couch, sat him in the middle before you went to fiddle with the television, knocking on its cracked surface lightly when it lagged a little. Sniper sat down to the right of Spy, his arm resting on the back of the couch, his hand making strange and unidentifiable patterns on the shoulder of Spy’s button-up. You groaned lightly, your frustration at the old and broken thing taking over you as you tried adjusting some wires behind the TV and then messing with the antennas, trying to get a signal. Finally, you got something.

  With a happy noise, you jumped up and ran back to the couch, seating yourself on the left side of Spy and immediately taking his left arm in your lap, holding it and squeezing his bicep on occasion. You reached up and plucked the cigarette from Spy’s lips, taking a drag before getting up again to soil it in the nearby ashtray. You went up to Sniper and did the same. 

  (When they have you a confused look, you simply shrugged and said, “Well, what if I want to kiss you? I’m not plucking that thing outta your mouth every single time just so I can kiss you.” And they looked at each other before laughing. You didn’t know whether to be happy that you’ve made your partners happy or offended that they were laughing at your expense. You decided to let it go and seated yourself back on the couch, stealing Spy’s arm again which earned more laughter from the Frenchman.)

  The show you were watching was a rerun of several episodes from an old children’s show and it did occasionally lose its image, leaving static in its place or the picture would lag but when you would try to get up and fix it, Spy would stop you and tell you to leave it be. So, you would seat yourself back down and proceed to cut off the circulation to Spy’s arm, kissing Spy’s neck and Sniper’s relaxing hand when you wanted. Sniper ruffled you hair for that, before it continued to rest on Spy’s shoulder. 

  Soon, Spy’s body started to lean in Sniper’s direction and his head had fallen onto Sniper’s shoulder, a relaxed sigh escaping his cigarette-free lips. Your body followed him and you were all soon in a very strange pile with you at the top and Sniper at the bottom, sandwiched between two warm bodies and the arm of the couch. Eventually Sniper had to adjust to accommodate the new situation and you eagerly hogged Spy’s body all to yourself, your arms encircling in and squeezing him. Spy moved his arms so to embrace you in an awkward hug. 

  When Sniper was done adjusting himself, he grabbed the two of you without warning and brought you all down with him, your backside jutted out and almost caused you to fall off of the couch all together. Needless to say, you held on to Spy for dear life. Before Sniper helped you regain your balance and you were fully seated on the couch again. 

  Sniper held Spy to his chest, his arms trapping Spy and keeping him near his own chest at all times (although Spy didn’t seem to have a problem with that as he had a look of complete relaxation and contentment on his features). You didn’t lie down on top of Spy but you did rub his back and lean over to kiss random spots on his back and left side and you stole his left foot. You also caressed one of Sniper’s legs for good measure. 

  Sniper trapped Spy to his chest with his arms and Spy trapped you in with his dainty leg. It was heaven and you wouldn’t exchange this moment if it meant saving the world. You would sometimes steal glances at the smashed in clock and gauged how much more time you could spend with the two mercenaries before you had to start your own duties. You would also occasionally chuckle when the characters in the show did something stupid or funny. 

  You stayed like that for a good hour or two, doing nothing but keeping Spy confined to the couch and sandwiched between two bodies filled with heat and adoration for the mysterious man in a mask. Sometimes you would start a simple conversation keeping it short and pleasant. At one point you leaned down and kissed Spy’s captive ankle before mockingly making a disgusted noise. When Spy asked you what was wrong with his ankle you said, “tastes like wine and cheese!” and laughed at the gentle yet accurate kick you received in the side. Sniper couldn’t help but laugh himself, earning himself a playful slap to his cheek. There a few more smart remakes and loving statements after that and Spy casually said, “I cannot promise you will live past tonight” and Sniper gasped dramatically.

  “I can see the newspaper now: Mercenary kills two partners because he doesn’t have a sense of humor!” You joked and Spy chuckled along with you. 

  At the two and a half hour mark, Heavy came in. You saw him through the doorway and you smiled and waved politely. Heavy returned the gesture and started to get himself a glass of water before he left, no questions asked. You were just glad that the person who caught the three of you was Heavy compared to Demo barging in or worse, Scout. 

 At the three hour mark, you heard a small snore and saw Sniper with his stupid hat pushed down and over his eyes with his mouth slightly open and Spy with his chest gently breathing in and out in a slow motion. The two of them had fallen asleep. You smiled fondly to yourself and got yourself out of the trap known as Spy’s legs and retrieved a blanket from a pile behind the couch. You quietly unfolded the blanket and draped it over their two bodies gently. You were glad you had stolen their cigarettes before this. You chuckled before you started to go to work on preparing a dinner for the other mercenaries. 

  At the four and a half hour mark, you had managed to cook up a decent dinner with what you managed to scavenge in the kitchen. And made about four pots of Mac-n-Cheese. It wasn’t exactly the greatest dinner you have cooked up before, but I filled stomachs and that was what you were going for. You’d have to do another supply run soon for some more ingredients. Thank god people don’t know who you were outside of the RED base. Supply runs would’ve been much more difficult. You kept the stove running to keep the multiple pots of Mac-n-Cheese hot and stirred the four pots occasionally as you got to work with chopping up vegetables and working with the bacon. 

  By five you set the table and made progress with cleaning the blood stain. You started to distribute vegetables and realized halfway through that this probably would’ve been easier if you had distributed vegetables and then distributed plates but whatever. Maybe next time. You also started to hear a small groan coming from the couch and stopped for a moment, setting everything down and checking on the source of the noise.

  You peered over the back of the couch to see Spy rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and Sniper stretching his arms. 

  “Good Evening.” You greeted. “I hope you guys had a good sleep, you’ve been out for almost two hours.” 

  Spy looked at the smashed clock on the wall and Sniper turned his head to do the same, clearly surprised.

  “Did you not fall asleep with us?” Spy turned his attention back to you.

  “Nah, I didn’t want to be late with making the dinner.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “Besides, I didn’t want to accidentally fall over and crush you two.” 

  “Mate, I’ve picked both you and Spook up at the same damn time.” Sniper said. “I think I could handle you two on a couch.” Spy made a noise of agreement and you sighed, turning around to walk back to the kitchen. 

  You picked up where you left off and resumed distributing vegetables. Spy and Sniper soon followed you as well. 

 

“ _Merci pour_ the blanket, mon chéri.”

 

You paused as you thought for a moment. “Non _problème_.” You tried.

  Spy chuckled. “It’s aucun. _Aucun problème_.” He corrected you as you sighed in defeat. 

  “English is the only language that I am good at.” You stated.

  “I dunno, mate. I’ve heard you say some questionable things.” Sniper joked, walking around the table to peer into the pots. “Mac-n-Cheese?” 

  “For my overgrown children.” You said.

  Spy chuckled as he also walked around the table. He paused in front of a seat by the end and sat down. Sniper did the same, he turned away from the pots and sat down to Spy’s right, on the very end of the table’s edge. You finished washing what dishes you could before you turned the stove off and started distributing the Mac-n-Cheese.

  By five thirty, men were starting to come in from their private quarters. Heavy and Medic came in first while Engineer and Pyro followed closely behind. You greeted them all as you started to fill the glasses with water, stealing a couple beers before placing them in the center of the table: first come, first serve. Each man got his own out here. You made an attempt to place the beer more on the side opposite of where you were hoping Scout would sit. 

  Before Pyro could sit down you pulled him over and whispered so only he could hear. “Would you mind sitting next to Spy for me? I’m sure he could use your affection.” Pyro eagerly nodded before doing as you asked and sat himself down next to Spy. 

  Pyro pat his back and his arm and his hand and gave Spy a thumbs up and you had to stop yourself from laughing too hard. Spy did seem to appreciate it though and although he did not return any of the actions, he gave a smile and to Pyro, that alone seemed to be enough. You grabbed your plate from the counter, hefted yourself up do you could sit on the counter, starting to eat your own food. 

  Dinner was quite joyous and you had to cough multiple times to dislodge some food from your poor throat as you laughed. Scout kept trying to reach for the beer and Spy had had enough, reaching over and slamming his knife with such precision, it lodged itself in the wood between Scout’s pointer and middle finger. Despite Scout’s temper blowing up, he didn’t reach for the beer again. Medic and Engineer told a funny story and Sniper even contributed some good old-fashioned Australian tales, leaving Demo and Heavy dying from asphyxiation. 

  It was a good two and half hours of slowly eating the now cold Mac-n-Cheese down to the last noodle and exchanging stories and trying to kill each other from laughter. 

  By seven, everyone had left - minus three people - and retired to their own dormitories. You started to collect the dishes and place them in the sink or on the counter, having to leave some still on the table due to lack of space. Sniper and Spy offered to help and while normally you would refuse, you let them help and the clean-up process went by much smoother and quicker. With everything done, you found yourself sitting in a chair with Spy leaning casually against the counter and Sniper with his feet propped up on the table. A devious idea crossed your mind.

  “So, Spy,” you started slow “how would you like to be fucked by Sniper and at the same time sucked off by me?” You casually said, with a tone similar to an older man discussing the weather. 

  Sniper audibly gulped and Spy grinned. 

 

“Why, how could I refuse, _mon chéri_?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je suis désolé - I am sorry  
> Ça sonne bien - It sounds good  
> Mon Chéri - honey , my good man  
> Merci pour - thank you for ____  
> Aucun Problème - no problem (a much more formal way)  
> 


	3. party (Sniper/Reader/Spy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The RED team has been doing well, why not celebrate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF I realized halfway through this chapter that there is only like some brief sprinkles of what this series is supposed to be about and I was like shit. But I continued on anyways cause why not. I’m a sucker for Team Fluff.
> 
> ( also hey, if you want to see something in this fic, be sure to request it! You can also request just Sniper/Spy, Spy/Reader, or Sniper/Reader if you want :D )
> 
> iii. “party” (SFW) Sniper/Reader/Spy
> 
> character notes : Reader’s gender is not specified :)

 

   You knelt down inside the closet, your hands brushing and maneuvering through all the extra ammo and uniforms - long forgotten and bitten through by the friendly out-of-the-closet moth - searching for something. Your fingertips soon brushed over the hard surface of an empty record player, the wood slightly dusty but the metal decorations still shined with a light. You carefully maneuvered the record player out of the closet, setting it down on a nearby table and closing the closet door. You got up,getting rid of that awful clingy dust that tended to stick around your knees. You sneezed only once, pausing for a moment to recalibrate yourself before setting out to do your task.

 

Every month, the very last week, the latest battle a win: you told the mercs that they should host a party - another day somehow still alive - and all the men agreed with enthusiastic cheers. You’ve done this “still alive party” quite a few times now and you were getting a hang of the routine that you set up for yourselves, able to get cooking and preparations done much faster. You held the record player in both your hands before moving into the kitchen/living room area. You walked through the and set the record player on a small table, wiping your finger along the edge of the smooth wood, the dust picking up on your finger leaving it a light grey. You quickly wiped your hands before turning to the couch, picking up the messenger bag you had deposited a few minutes prior to your search for the record player. So now, you set out on your next quest: gathering the actual records.

 

The RED base, despite all of its technological advancements in weaponry and respawning, has almost zero advancements in entertainment. You had managed to find the old record player in some god forbidden corner of the base, battered and beat. You went to Engineer and asked if it was possible to fix the old thing up. With a quick inspection and a small mechanical surgery, the record player was as good as new. You thanked Engineer with a big hug and with the promise of a stellar dinner.

Now, the record player was well taken care of, you did your best to dust it and still make sure the old thing was still functioning between all of your care taking duties and thankfully, most of the team also had the records - old mementos of lives forever changed. Now, your occasional parties consisted of some very competing and drunk games of cards and the music that the mercs chose themselves.

 

You walked down the hall and lightly rapped your knuckles against Scout’s door, waiting patiently for the energetic Bostonian to answer.

 

“‘Ey, (y/n)! Lookin’ for this?” Scout leaned against the now opened door, the cover of his record held daintily in his bandaged hand.

 

“Thanks, Scout.” You took the record from his hand, gently placing it in your bag before waving goodbye and moving on.

 

You knocked on Soldier’s door, stepped to the right in case it blew of the hinges again, you crinkled your nose at the thought of that experience.

 

“Maggot! I have acquired the music-disk!” Soldier, to his credit, did not blow the door off. But the door still slammed back into the wall as he aggressively opened it, the record gripped in his hands.

 

You took it and placed it alongside Scout’s before jokingly saluting him. “Thank you, Soldier!” You replied enthusiastically before walking off with a more casual wave goodbye.

 

You continued this process of knocking on doors, stepping wherever you needed to be in order to not break your nose, obtaining the records, saying goodbye and walking off with a wave for awhile, always happy to see everyone and their craziness.

 

You knocked on Pyro’s door, mindful of the charred and burnt wood, stepping back and waiting for the little fire monster. He opened the door and walking up to you enthusiastically - a spring in his step, slipping the record into your bag for you before walking you to the next door, patting your arm in a farewell motion before retreating back to his quarters.

 

“What a gentleman.” You mused quietly as you knocked on Spy’s door.

 

Sniper was the one to open the door and he greeted you with a cheerful grin and allowed you to step inside the rogue’s room.

 

“Sorry, mate, I completely forgot you were comin’ for those records.” He explained as he fiddled with a nearby cabinet. You sat yourself on the all-too familiar bed.

 

“Ah, are you here for our records?” You turned to head to see Spy adjusting his attire, flicking a button for good measure once he was done.

 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m a little early though. Sorry about that.”

 

Spy casually seated himself next to you, and arm around your waist and an unlit cigarette bouncing between his lips as he talked. “Never apologize for allowing us to see such an attractive face earlier than usual.”

 

Sniper made a small content noise as he finally found his record, walking up to you and giving you the desired object. “Sight for sore eyes, mate.” He added with a smile.

 

You chuckled softly, taking the records and slipping them in your bag alongside the others. “Thanks guys.” You stood up and made your way to the door, turning to give a quick wave and a small wink before excusing yourself.

 

You counted the records you had already acquired, noting you still needed three more.

 

You jogged slightly to Medic’s lab, knocking on the stainless door before entering. Medic always knew it was you because you were the only person on the base to knock on his door and then proceed to not break it down. At the sound of the door gently closing, Heavy looked up and smiled politely. Medic popped out of a doorway and also waved, two records held in his hands.

 

“You need any help?” Medic had asked you as you took the records from his hands.

 

“Oh, no. I’m doing good.” You smiled. “I just have to make the dinner and try to get that one bloodstain off the kitchen table.”

 

“Blood still there?” Heavy chimed in, walking up to the two of you.

 

“Yeah. Pyro offered to burn the table for me, but then you would all have to eat in chairs, no table.”

 

“Did he offer to burn zhe chairs as vell?” Medic chuckled.

 

“Yeah, and then Scout also offered to bash the corner.” You sighed, but there was no annoyance in your voice.

 

Heavy also started chuckling and before you knew it, all three of you couldn’t stop laughing.

 

You were the first to get a hold of your breath. “Ah, sorry. You must have work to get back to. I’ll get going.” You excused yourself, wiping a tear of joy from the corner of your eye.

 

Medic and Heavy waved goodbye and you closed the door behind you, putting the records in a separate pocket of your bag and you started to make your way down to Engineer’s lab.

 

You passed Demo on your way to the lab and he must’ve been drinking because he handed you a grenade saying, “‘ere’s ma record, little bomb” and waltzed down the hallway, a drunken spring in his step, completely forgetting that you had already collected his record earlier in the day.

 

You looked at the grenade in your hand and then back at the retreating Demoman, sighing and making a mental note in your head to get some pain pills. You carefully handled the grenade in your hands, continuing on your original path to Engineer.

 

You knocked on the door, opening it before closing it behind you. “Engie!” You called. “You in?”

 

You recognized the iconic yellow hard hat bobbing behind a massive pile of spare parts, grease stains and oil marks staining his shirt as he wiped his forehead of sweat with a spare towel on his work bench.

 

“Well, good mornin’ to ya.” He greeted. “You’re here for my record, I suppose.” You nodded and watched as he retreated back behind the many piles and piles of mechanical parts and works in process before reappearing with a record held in a clean and small towel. “I do hope I didn’t get no grease on this thing.”

 

“I’ll be sure to clean it, if you’d like. I was going to clean all the rest anyways, just in case.” You took the record and placing it alongside the records you retrieved from Medic and Heavy. “Especially Scout’s. I mean, I don’t even want to know what that kid does, he’s a teenager and I don’t trust that.”

 

Engineer chuckled. “I remember those good ‘ole days.” He said, slapping his knee in good humor. “I’m sure you do too! It was only, what, yesterday for you?”

 

“I wish.” You said with a sarcastic sigh. “Almost fifteen years, Engie. Although, saying that out loud makes me feel even older!” You finished with a grin.

 

Engineer gave another hearty cackle before you kindly excused yourself, giving a polite wave before walking out of his lab. The smell of gasoline always made your nose twitch in the most annoying ways. You peered back into your bag and counted all the records you collected. You got them all! Now, all you had to do was sort them all out, clean them for good measure, cook that dinner, try and get that stupid bloodstain (stupid god damned Scout and his need to brag and his ability to piss people off) out of the table, and finish any other activities.

 

So; you grabbed the bag and placed it on the kitchen counter, preparing a simple cleaning solution consisting of soap and water, placing that on the counter as well before grabbing a cloth, heaving yourself on and onto the counter, grabbing the cloth and one of the vinyl records -gently placing the covers to their respective records in a pile on your left side, the opposite of the sink so they didn’t get wet -before getting to work with cleaning those records.

 

Some of the men happened to walk through the kitchen, some just passing by while others and in for the purpose of collecting a snack.

 

Heavy came looking for a sandwich while Scout came blaring in, intent on annoying you with no plan on stopping as he searched the refrigerated for his stupid carbonated drinks. Heavy left first while Scout stayed a little longer, eager to piss you off before you kicked him in the shin before then telling him to “piss off”, laughing quietly at his pained expression and your own joke. While you were cleaning your fifth disk now, Soldier came barging in, almost broke off the door to the fridge, grabbed something (you were too stunned to really identify what he took), and ran back off without saying anything. You paused, trying to really process what the hell just happened before shrugging and rinsing off the now clean record and setting it down on a towel to dry with the rest of the records before picking up another record and repeating the process.

 

You were cleaning your eighth disk when Pyro came in with a blanket, walking towards the couch and practically collapsing on it. You assumed he just wanted to take a nap and continued wiping the cloth over the surface of your record.

 

You shifted yourself over the edge of the count, allowing your feet to touch the ground after almost thirty minutes of careful cleaning. You remembered the first time you cleaned these records and when it took you over an hour to wipe down the records, rinse and dry it. Now, you practically breeze through the process.

 

You matched the covers to their respective records - taking note of how the pictures and wordings that had once decorated the front of the cover with vibrant and head-ache inducing colors were now faded and scratched away - before you placed the stack of music next to the stand you had previously placed the record player on. You also took the liberty of quietly re-adjusting the blanket half hazardously draped over Pyro before walking back to the kitchen and starting to prepare the dinner. You had planned a simple meal with too much protein and basically nothing else. Just the way your team liked it.

 

You finished just in time, wiping off the sweat from your forehead as you finished placing a turkey-plate filled to the brim with drumsticks on the table (you didn’t quite have the time to try and get Scout’s stupid blood of the table) before placing a much smaller two plates of random junk food on either side of the mountain of drumsticks. You also dug into the fridge and pulled out too many bottles of beer to be healthy and placed them on random spots about the table.

 

The smell started to attract the men from whatever the hell they were doing earlier and into the kitchen. Pyro sleepily wobbled into the kitchen, rubbing the bottom of the opaque glass eyes of his mask (jokingly or not, you will never know) and plopped down in a seat.

 

“Good evening, Py.” You said gently, patting his back with nearly non-existent pressure. “Would you like a pillow?” You asked and saw Pyro nod. You went back to the couch and reached behind it to snatch a pillow and place it on the table’s surface, allowing Pyro to smash his face in the down. “Don’t forget to breathe with that pillow.” You joked. “I’ll leave your medicine out if you need it.” You whispered the last part so only he could hear it.

 

Honestly, you wished Pyro would get over his need to avoid Medic for his check-ups. His lungs were ruined enough as it was and you were quite sure he didn’t even have most of them left to destroy. Even you didn’t know what Pyro looked like under that mask and suit. You were just the caretaker.

 

As the men filed in and chowed down, very few spared Pyro a glance. This didn’t surprise you, seeing as how most of the men just wanted to get to those stupid card games they loved so much and get dangerously wasted. You were glad you reminded yourself to stock up on painkillers during your last supply run. They tended to overdo it.

 

You leaned against the edge of the kitchen sink, sipping on a glass of salty water that tasted warm despite coming from the cold knob. Without words, everyone inhaled the drumsticks and looked at Engineer expectingly when no one could stomach much more (but they always somehow made room for that shitty bottled beer).

 

Engineer grabbed a deck of cards from his pocket and you took the now empty platter and dumped it in the sink, tapping Pyro on the shoulder and taking back the pillow before throwing it behind the couch and slipping a random record out of its case and onto the player, allowing the music to quietly flow through the room.

 

“C’mon, (y/n)! Lookit this!” You turned around the see Scout trying to shuffle half the deck while Heavy expertly shuffled the cards. In the time it took Scout to shuffle once, Heavy had already shuffled at least ten times.

 

At the successful shuffle, Scout flashed an arrogant grin and abandoned the deck to bask in his own pride. You took the deck yourself and shuffled it twice more for good measure, taking Heavy‘s own deck and dealing the cards.

 

You always played “ _Bullshit_ ” first as it always got everybody in a competitive mood and it sure as hell had Pyro return to the land of the living as not even thirty minutes in the game, there was a fire axe wedged in the table.

 

“What the hell?! How did ya fuckin’ know?!” Scout screamed as he pulled the whole pile of cards towards him. “Ya cheatin’, Doc?!” He accused as he pointed a surprisingly well manicured finger in Medic’s general direction.

 

“Not at all, _Junge_.” Medic replies calmly as the game resumed. “I just suppose you are _ein sehr schlechter Lügner_.” He smirked behind his hand of cards and Spy couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

You grinned as Scout slumped back in his chair, slamming his card on the pile whenever it was his turn to play.

 

The next game you would play was “ _Fuck the Dealer_ ” and you had to slap both Sniper and Spy as they both whispered under their breath, “gladly” and “ _volontier_ ” respectively.

 

You were starting to wonder if the men were purposefully answering wrong as you reached into the fridge to grab more beer bottles. You passed the deck clockwise to Sniper and the game continued on.

 

You had to get up to change the record every so often and the differences between the languages and the types of music was astonishing. At one point a German Opera was playing and everyone looked at Medic with a questioning look.

 

“Vhat? It reminds me of home.” And no one could argue with that.

 

“New rule, Maggots! If your inferior song is in a language other than _American_ then you have to explain it!” Soldier bellowed.

 

You spat out your beer as you suddenly became overcome with laughter and soon the rest of the table was joining in with drunken laughter.

 

The last game you generally play is “ _Kings_ ”. You went into the fridge for the umpteenth time that night and managed to dig out a can of beer, placing it in the middle of the table. You took all the cards, reshuffled and placed them all face-down in a circle around the unopened beer can.

 

Scout, by damn dumb luck was the first King and demanded that everyone had to compliment him in some way. Luckily, Engineer was the next King and requested that everyone talk in a random accent for your turn (Scout eagerly did a very shitty impersonation of a Frenchman and Pyro’s accent was unknown. In retaliation, Spy did an awfully butchered Boston accent and you just settled for German).

 

“ _Ace_!” And all of a sudden everyone was drinking in a waterfall.

 

In between, Heavy explained the story behind his Russian ballad and you cried with drunk tears in regards to such a touching story.

 

“ _Königin_!” And all of a sudden very strange questions were bounced around between the team.

 

“So, Scout, when will you be man?”

 

“Pyro, what’s with that mask anyhow?”

 

“Heavy, do you name all of your weapons?”

 

“(Y/n), who’s your favorite?”

 

“Hey, Demo, have you ever made your own explosive weapons?”

 

And sometime down the train of questions, someone had the gall to ask how Medic lost his Doctor’s License.

 

Spy explained the story behind his own record and Sniper couldn’t help that goofy grin that made him look like a lovesick fool.

 

“ _Семь_!” And all of a sudden you were all pointing at the sky and Demo collapsed on the floor, thinking Heavy had said four in Russian.

 

“ _Huit_!” And all of a sudden, you and Spy were gulping down the rest of your bottle together, Spy sneaking a kiss to the corner of your mouth once you had finished drinking.

 

“ _King_!” And all of a sudden, you demanded that everyone get the hell to bed, shooing everyone out of their chairs, helping whoever needed help walking straight even though you also needed the help yourself. You would escort those who were more capable to their doors while those who couldn’t even make two steps collapsed, you allowed them to stay in the living room area and demanded that they take some pills in the morning. They would complain but you stated that you were still the “King” until someone else drew a King card. Since you ended the game, that wasn’t happening any time soon.

 

Scout, Demo and Pyro crashed in the living room while everyone else was able to go to the comforts of their own bed. You, albeit under the influence of quite a few bottles of alcohol, managed to stay up and somewhat sober a little longer and you removed the records and the record player from the living room, made sure everyone crashing there was alright and moved to help the last two people remaining in the kitchen.

 

“Snipes, Spock, what are ya still doin’ down here?” You slurred, not sober enough to catch your mistake.

 

Spy laughed and dipped in the rest of his beverage, sober enough but not having the heart to mix your mistake. “We figured we would take your drunk self to bed.”

 

“Wai’, we sleepin’ togeth’a?” You placed your hands on a nearby chair for balance.

 

“Yeah, we do, _Roo_.” Sniper opted to dumped the contents of his beer bottle in the sink,

 

“Oh, I guess we do, huh.” You stated dumbly.

 

“Come now, you need to sleep before your hangover comes, _mon amour_.”

 

Sniper and Spy walked to either side of you, able to support you as you took some drunken steps forward and towards your shared and almost forgotten bed.

 

Damn them and their ability to hold their alcohol well.

 

It was only just now, being hauled off to the bed, that you realized there was a can of unopened beer on the table. You idiots had forgotten to include the “drink” part to your “drinking game”.

 

Well, damn.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junge - boy  
> Ein sehr schlechter lügner - a very bad liar  
> Königin - Queen  
> ~ 
> 
> Voluntier - voluntarily, gladly  
> Huit - eight  
> Mon Amour - my love
> 
> ~
> 
> Семь - seven
> 
> ~
> 
> Roo - a baby Kangaroo, an idiot, clumsy person


	4. arrangement | confession (Sniper/Reader/Spy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were in a sex-only relationship. Count on you to get feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iv. arrangement | confession (NSFW-ish - more towards the end in all honesty) Sniper/Spy (beginning), Sniper/Reader/Spy
> 
> character notes : Reader’s gender is not specified to the best of my ability :)
> 
> This chapter is really long. Before this chapter the total words for this fix was like 11.000 well now it’s like 18.000 words. I am so not sorry. Also, Readers reaction towards the situation regarding Sniper and Spy is kinda based off of my own experiences with having crushes but realizing they’re with someone else so... oof, I’m awkward I know

You caught them and now the only thing you could do was avoid them.

 

You didn’t mean to catch them. Hell, all you really wanted was to know where the can opener was and Sniper was the last man to use it. So naturally, you went up to his nest. You weren’t planning this big reveal (unwanted surprise) and you most certainly didn’t want to witness it with your own two eyes.

 

Sniper was leaning over Spy, his long arms trapping the other mercenary underneath him. For a moment you thought Sniper had caught the enemy Spy but you realized they weren’t arguing and there was only loving words of French affection and panted out pet names and dirty talk in Australian slang.

 

You managed to hold in a gasp at your unwanted discovery and you immediately ducked underneath the small opening to the nest, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the ladder.

 

You breathed in shaky breaths, mindful of the passionate events occurring over your head and the company it included. Spy was a crafty man and could pick up the slightest sounds. But from the situation he was in, you guessed he ended up picking some other things. You shook your head quickly, a small blush bleeding into the skin of your cheeks as you realized what you just thought. You quickly descended the ladder and you slowly realized you could never look them in the eye again. Not without blushing and stammering.

 

Your routine encountered massive changes.

 

You decided to sit on the counter for dinner or lean against it for breakfast instead of sitting between Pyro and Sniper.

 

You decided to keep the coffee pot boiling and waiting for Sniper instead of delivering the coffee already in a mug.

 

You decided to pass on any wine-drinking opportunities instead of indulging in what was possibly the most expensive thing you could ever put down your throat.

 

You decided to wave whenever either one of them passed by instead of speaking a greeting. 

 

You decided to squeeze yourself in between Medic and Scout instead of Spy and Engineer when it came to a round of Poker.

 

You decided to not participate in conversations that included either Sniper or Spy (or both if you were just that unlucky) instead of chatting up a storm.

 

Ultimately, you had all but cut them from your life and it pained you, really it did.

 

But how could you look at them - two men you had gradually developed feelings for during your years as a caretaker - after knowing how close they were, after accidentally stumbling upon that clearly unspoken bond that was not meant for your eyes and still look at them in the same light. Needless to say, you couldn’t without feeling guilty and selfish.

 

That was how you found yourself where you are now: after midnight, sitting in a wooden chair at the kitchen table, your head in your hands and a beer in front of you, it’s contents already almost gone.

 

You were disappointed in yourself as you went over the most recent events of the day in your head. You shouldn’t shun them like that. It wasn’t as though they were advertising to the world saying, “hey, we’re fucking each other, bye” and casually walking off into the sunset, hand in hand.

 

You growled to yourself. “I can’t do this.”

 

You grabbed your beer and went to the kitchen window, opening it and climbing out, the neck of your beer stuck painfully between your teeth. You didn’t bother closing the window as you figured you’d be back down soon enough anyways.

 

The air was cold and it bit harshly at your legs and arms, the cold material of the base scratched your feet and hands. This wasn’t exactly the healthiest habit you had - climbing up to the roof through a window just to vent to yourself while staring at the starry sky with no one but the cold air and minor cuts on your joints to keep your company - but then again, what else could you do?

 

You couldn’t just walk up to Pyro and say “god damn, I just saw some very handsome men fucking but now I’m avoiding them, what do I do?” and manage to continue on with your day and maintain your friendship with the firebug. He may or may not understand, but regardless, you didn’t have too many guts left after your sessions with Medic.

 

You couldn’t just casually bring it up in a conversation by way of hypothetical questions because that would cause suspicion and it wasn’t fair to Sniper or Spy.

 

But it was driving you out a window and up a damn wall! So what? You had to live your days with this horrific knowledge and you can’t hypothetically share it with anyone? What kind of a cruel and twisted fate is that? The kind that only God could give (if He was the Administrator’s sister and He was actually a She and She turned out to be an absolute bitch).

 

You laid down between the weathered material of the roof, the shingles that remained were so used to your presence that you practically had a you-shaped figure on the roof where you would comfortably lay and question yourself in silence, your beer bottle companion pressed to your chest, the liquid inside barely able to spill out of the opening.

 

You closed your eyes and shifted so you were laying on your left side - you couldn’t bare to go to your right for fear of who’s vehicle you may see on the horizon - and you wedged your beer between two leftover sturdy shingles so it wouldn’t fall and spill. The cold air didn’t bite your skin anymore, it started to embrace you like a blanket. Just not a very comfortable one.

 

You started to reminisce about when you first realized you had feelings for both of the men who currently occupied your mind.

 

Sniper had always been kind to you. He was reserved in a team setting but was one hell of an opponent in a card game. He’d always try to include you in those games he’d play with Demo and Engie (and Scout but he was mostly just a cheerleader). Sniper had once offered to teach you how to shoot and it seemed that he gained even more respect for you when you showed him just how handy you were with a shotgun. On some mornings, you would find Pyro and Sniper engaged in an active discussion about the show that was playing and they would, more often than not, rope you into the argument. You always got laughs out it though.

 

Spy was always a gentleman to you. He was a man of elegance but his voice seemed to always be laced with sarcasm when addressing certain baseball fanatic teenagers. He offered to go on supply runs with you and would occasionally wrap his suit jacket around your shoulders on the way back to base like in an old movie you once saw. He would always offer to share a glass of wine with you when you walked in on his casual tastings in the kitchen and was often seen arguing with Demo about alcohol preferences. Sarcastically, you often joined in and amended the argument with “the best kinda alcohol is a warm pot of coffee in the morning” but sometimes you’d join in the argument with the sarcastic claim that water was the best kind of alcohol.

 

All of the team was kind and fun with you but there was just something different with these two men. You couldn’t choose and frankly, you didn’t want to.

 

Seems your unvoiced prayers were heard: now you don’t have to.

 

They already did without your knowledge.

 

You sighed into the shingles. You shouldn’t blame them. Who knows how long the two have escaped to unknown getaways together. Sometimes you wondered if some of the other mercenaries had similar arrangements. You didn’t push the subject on anyone though. It simply wasn’t part of your job description.

 

You supported your upper body on your left elbow as you grabbed the bottle and took a drink, wiping away the trail the liquid left down your chin before returning to your curled up position on the roof. You should really get back inside. Your legs seemed to shiver in agreement but your brain couldn’t bring yourself to move. It must be two in the morning by now. So, you just lay there, your breath warming your chilled forearm in huffs, you right arm curling around your stomach for body heat.

 

The more you thought about it, the more your brain started to get logical. This wasn’t really that big of a deal. They don’t know that you know that they’re fucking. Just play it cool and they won’t have to know. Forget about your feelings for a moment and think about them. If they’re screwing then obviously they must be content with whatever arrangement they have, right? You don’t matter in that arrangement, they do. It’s okay! Just go back to normal and everything will be fine. Logical thinking is always the way to go!

 

“Oi, mate, you doin’ alrigh’ there?”

 

Easier said than fucking done.

 

You looked at your right shoulder where you felt the tapping and followed the arm to find Sniper. You realized that you must’ve been so deep in thought you didn’t hear him climb up to the roof himself.

 

“Oh! U-um, yeah. Just admiring the view.” You lamely said.

 

“At three in the mornin’?” His head tilted to the side and his sunglasses suddenly turned opaque and you knew you’ve already fucked up.

 

“There’s, uh, there’s no Scout...” You said quietly, your voice trailing off and your eyes suddenly found a loose piece of shingles to be more interesting than Sniper’s face.

 

“Are you alrigh’, mate?” He repeated, but this time around his voice got deeper and you almost laughed out loud at the feeling it sent throughout your body. “You’ve been actin’ real strange lately.” Oh...

 

“Y-yeah, it’s just been real busy trying to keep up with you guys lately. I don’t really have a moment to myself.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, (it was actually true in some aspects) but it wasn’t the reason for your strange actions and you started to think that maybe Sniper knew ‘cause he tilted his head again and he hasn’t said any-

 

“If you say so, mate.” Oh thank God. “But go back inside, at least. You’ll catch a chill wearin’ just that.” His hand made a gesture towards your goosebump covered form and you started to sit up, holding yourself with your arms as you chuckled nervously.

 

“That’s probably for the best.” You agreed.

 

Sniper was kind enough to grab your beer and escort you down to the planet Earth. At one point he told you to jump from the roof, that he’ll catch you from his place on the ground and you almost turned right back around to the edge of the roof to bash your head in and go through Respawn instead. But you jumped and, true to his word, he caught you and you wrapped your arms around his neck when he didn’t let you down and started walking. He walked around to the open kitchen window, reaching inside and placing your beer on the counter and beside the sink.

 

“This where you got out?” All you could do was nod, worried that if you spoke you would sob from how tired and tipsy and so fucking fed up with your situation you were.

 

So, rather awkwardly, Sniper let you down and helped you get through the window. You hopped off the sink and shivered internally at how cold the floor was. You turned towards the window and when Sniper waved you only gave him a nod and a quiet (albeit slightly embarrassed) “thanks” before shutting the window, locking it and turning off the light. You sighed realizing just how pathetic you were right now and how rude you must’ve seemed to Sniper. You figured you could apologize in the morning once you slept.

 

You just stood there, your hand lingering on the light switch , in the dark for what felt like an eternity but must’ve been only fifteen minutes. You sighed as you realized just how fucking pathetic you are when you noticed how your heart throbbed painfully at the realization that Sniper must’ve been heading to his van.

 

Heading back to his van implied that he had been residing in someone’s room in the base.

 

 

You turned back around and started to slowly walk to the couch, your hands outstretched incase of any objects you might’ve walked into.You finally found the couch and flopped down on it, your forehead hitting the stuffed arm of the couch. It did sting, the impact, but it wasn’t like you managed to get a concussion or a serious injury from it.

 

You reached around the back of the couch and fished out two blankets, not really bothering searching for a pillow this time. You wrapped one around yourself and then the other before turning so you were facing the inside of the couch, curling into yourself so tight you must’ve looked so small. The mercenaries would have to make their own breakfast in the morning, you thought to yourself as you forced your eyes closed and willed your brain to sleep before you started to think about things you didn’t want to.

 

 

 

You woke up slowly, your eye lashes fluttering slightly as you got used to the bright light. You sat up and looked around you, your under-blanket slipping off your shoulder as you did so.

 

“Jesus, (y/n)! Wha’ took ya’ so long? Fuck man, we’ve already eaten.” Scout called at you from the table which in turn caused the nearby men to look at you.

 

“Damn, Scout. Don’t you have a low volume setting?” You rubbed your eyes sleepily before covering your mouth to try and stifle a yawn.

 

Pyro, seated in front of the couch and on the floor, turned around and started to try and communicate. Luckily, you were well versed in the art of Understanding a Pyro.

 

“It’s noon?” You clarified.

 

Pyro nodded but he didn’t turn back to whatever show he had previously been watching, instead he kept watching you as you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head.

 

“Aw shit, have you guys eaten lunch yet? I’m so sorry, I’ll get right to work with the food.” You started to get up, shoving away the blankets as though you were burnt, rushing to the cabinets and rummaging through the contents.

 

“Please calm down, _mon_ _ami_.” You flinched away from the hand that calmly placed itself on your shoulder and when you turned your head to confirm who it was, you almost ran away from Spy without looking back. “We ‘ave already eaten our meals.”

 

“Oh.” You closed the cabinet and calmly stepped away from the counter. “Oh okay, so I guess all that’s left is dinner?” Spy nodded as he also took a step back from you. “I guess... well I guess that I will get started on that later today. Um. Thanks.” You walked back to the couch and folded your blanket mess before casually walking out of the kitchen altogether.

 

“What in the actual fuck was tha’?” You heard Scout and his loud declaration and you couldn’t help but turn to the nearest wall and bang your head against it.

 

You were too deep in now to stop. You were busy, you told Sniper, and you were startled by Spy’s hand, that was all. You did just wake up.

 

You spent the rest of your day outside in the desert. You didn’t climb up on the roof but you settled on walking and kicking the sand outside, your hands shoved in your pockets, occasionally wiping sweat from your forehead as the sun sent disappointed rays your way.

 

At one point, you went inside and grabbed a spare gun to shoot with. This time, you did climb on the roof and you started to aim at random objects that decorated the horizon. You shot at tall rocks, a dead and wrinkled old tree, a group of cacti and, when it was getting late, you even shot at the damn sun. You sighed as you climbed down the roof to go back inside, reload the gun and stuff it back in its previous location.

 

You then set to work on dinner. Nothing fancy - your mind wasn’t really in it - just some hotdogs you found after giving the dirty fridge a good long look amongst its shelves. You found the sausages and after sweeping through the cabinets, found some bread. You left the meat to cook on the stove as you folded the loaves of bread so they were more like makeshift buns. Once there were nine makeshift buns, you stood over the stove with a spoon, flipping the sausages when you thought that they were burning. You did that for a while until the moment when you were rolling a hot dog around non-stop, the sides completely cooked. You turned down the stove’s heat and brought the makeshift buns closer, gently picking up hot dogs and fitting them inside the buns before putting down more sausages to cook. There was no way you were cooking nine hot dogs at once with that small of a frying pan. You weren’t even sure if you were cooking them right, for all you knew you might be poisoning the team of mercenaries tonight with your food.

 

You repeated your turning and fitting process with the hot dogs and the buns until there were nine hot dogs on nine separate plates. You grabbed two plates at a time, setting them down in their respective places on the table. You went in the fridge and got out some bottles of beer, setting them in the middle of the table before setting out some cups next to the kitchen sink and filling them with water, placing them next to the plates until nine cups were in place. You tiredly looked at your handiwork before sneaking a peek at the smashed in clock and realizing that you were a little early.

 

So, you retreated from the kitchen without a second thought.

 

You briskly walked the hallways of the baseand rounded the corner towards the Respawn machine. You don’t know why you wanted to spend your time there, it was dark and full of cobwebs and desperately needed some cleaning around the back, but your feet took you there regardless. You paused only for a moment when something wet trailed down your cheek.

 

But then you only walked faster after brutally swiping the back of your hand across said cheek.

 

Fucking pathetic, honestly.

 

However, the fact remained that you couldn’t stop thinking of Spy and Sniper. About that moment you caught them in the nest, about Sniper catching you when you jumped off the roof that one night, about Spy’s hand on your shoulder, about how hurt you were. Just those few moments of contact with either of them made your heart beat painfully and your eyes water, tears threatening to flow without a second thought.

 

You opened the door to the room, you left the door open slightly since you figured no one really went down these hallways just to wander and have fun. The team only walked down here if someone they needed was going through Respawn and they had to wait for them. You figured you were safe.

 

You sat down in a small space with your left side pushed up against a small pile of wooden crates and you other side brushing against the base of Respawn, your back to the wall with your head buried in your knees.

 

You loved them and they loved each other and suddenly the thought of a resignation letter crossed your mind. You were pretty sure, though, that resignation vacation meant bullet in your brain. The Administrator was like that; cool and calculated and not ever in the mood to take risks that jeopardized yourself. You wished you could be like that when you needed to be.

 

You sighed, your fingertips brushed against the cool material of the Respawn’s base, the feeling sending goosebumps to ripple along your arm. There was quite a few bumps in the base and you figured this thing must’ve been around since the first generation of mercenaries, functioning thanks to occasional modifications by the team’s Engineers. That was really cool but there was always an irrational worry within you where the Respawn would fail and whoever died wouldn’t be coming back. You were worried it could be Pyro, Medic, even Scout. It could be Demo or Engie or Soldier or Heavy or...

 

The point was, this machine always had you worried. You would much rather have the mercenaries all home sick with only you to take care of them (which in itself is practically a suicide mission) than have them all play a game of War with the promise of no death consequences.

 

You sighed as your pink finger dipped slightly into a dent. You smiled to yourself as you realized what you thought about. Something different.

 

Something that wasn’t...

 

Something different!

 

You shook your head because god damn it you weren’t thinking about it!

 

You weren’t going to think about Sn-

 

You weren’t going to think about Sp-

 

 

 

Well shit, this was gonna be quite the challenge.

 

 

You glanced up briefly and noticed just how dark the room had gotten in your attempt to hide from the team. You stood on shaky legs, reaching down slightly to brush some dust from your legs. You looked at the half-open door and took a deep breath. You walked towards the door and slipped through, turning around and fully closing the door before walking away, the light sounds of your walk echoing off the walls. It was way pass dinner, you realized, seeing as how the moonlight illuminated the hallway stretched out before you, passing through the glass of the windows to grace you with its presence.

 

You walked into the kitchen and immediately starting to get to work on cleaning the sloppy remains from dinner. You collected the plates and set them down next to the sink before gathering the empty bottles and dropping them into a nearby bin. You gathered the crumbs into a paper towel before dropping that into the trash, pushing in a stray chair for whoever left it out and in the open, eagerly awaiting someone that it could trip. You started to wash the dishes with very, very cold water and some dish soap, the sponge gliding over the dirty surfaces of the cracked and chipped plates.

 

It was a calming process for you, the smooth motions you made as you washed the plates clean, setting them aside to later be dried. It reminded you of an ocean lapping at the sand on a beach. It was nice.

 

“Oi, mate.”

 

You visibly jumped at the sudden sound of avoice, your fingers slipping and the plate collided with the others. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any addition damage to it, only emotional trauma at the thought of being dropped.

 

“Sniper,” you addressed with as calm a voice as you could manage “you’re up late.” Wow, you were lame.

 

“We could say the same about you, _mon ami_.” Another voice sounded from your right, as Sniper made himself known on your left side.

 

Oh.

 

_Oh!_

 

And of _fucking course_ Spy had to be here too. Yeah, okay, this is fine, this is alright, you got this, you can handle this.

 

“You too, Spy? What, can’t sleep?” You joked as you pretended to inspect the plate you had previously dropped after your initial scare. You hadn’t looked up.

 

“Sorry to bail you up like this but we wanna talk.”

 

“But it seemed neither one of us could since you would run away whenever you saw us.” You could smell the harsh scent of Spy’s cigarettes and the familiar musk of gunpowder as they spoke.

 

“Work has been busy; you guys are shooting, I’m cleaning.” Excuses, excuses.

 

“What garbage.” You heard Sniper practically snarl the words out.

 

“Is that why you refrain from looking us in the eye? Of course, the solution was in front of us all along, Bushman. What idiots we must be.” There was a sarcastic chuckle.

 

You were insulting their intelligence at this rate, pressing the excuse that you were just busy. Nothing more.

 

“I saw you.” You whispered softly, your false inspection of the plate paused as you lowered it slowly to the sink.

 

“ _Excusez-moi_?” Shard and expensive shoes rattled against the cheap floorboards as Spy took the necessary steps forward to hear you.

 

“I saw you. In the nest. Both of you.” You turned around and immediately locked your gaze on Spy as you tried to clear your earlier sentence up so it didn’t sound as strange. “I didn’t mean to find you two! Honest! I couldn’t find the can opener and I thought I saw Sniper using it last and so I went up to the nest to try and find him, see if he knew!” You were rambling at this rate - the way both Sniper and Spy were looking at you made it obvious that they pieced your sentences together - but you kept on. “I didn’t want things to be awkward, I mean, I didn’t think you saw me so I tried to act normal because I mean, it doesn’t change anything right? But when I actually got around to doing it, I didn’t want to be rude or anything and then it just got hard to actually face you because, well, I saw you two in the nest.” You breathed in a deep breath, looking at both of them right in the eye for the first time in what seemed like decades. “I’m sorry.”

 

Sniper seemed to be the more shocked one out of the two of them, his mouth slightly agape as though he were to say something, but no words were coming out.

 

Spy seemed to be the more composed one of the pair, absorbing the information with a puff of smoke and a steady gaze.

 

“So you saw us, _oui_?”

 

“I’m sorry.” You repeated.

  

  There was a pause.

 

“Do you wish to join us in our activities?”

 

You choked for a moment, your brain shutting down at the question. Sniper’s face slowly started to form a grin as he watched your reaction. He didn’t seem too surprised by this, but with one sideways glance at Spy, you could still he was taken off-guard if only for a moment.

 

“You alright there, mate?”

 

“ _Je m'excuse_ , _mon ami_.” Spy chuckled.

 

Once you had regained your breath and was able to maintain a standard flow of oxygen, you looked at Spy with a bewildered look in your eyes.

 

“ _Quelle_? If you have seen us, why not join us?” Spy simply shrugged as though he had only asked you to join some innocent club, when in reality, he had asked of so much more. “Bushman, you are alright with this, _non_?”

 

Sniper grinned and nodded his head. “Fine by me, Spook.”

 

“(Y/n)? It is ultimately your decision. If you accept, then we shall whisk you away for the remainder of the night. Should you refuse then we must only ask you that you stop avoiding us. What you’ve been worrying about is such a trivial thing, _mon ami_.” Spy smirked. “Our relationship is purely professional and no feelings need to be involved.”

 

“Um... okay.” You murmured quietly. You figured being in a purely “professional” sex arrangement would help satisfy your lust for the two men. You figured it would be alright. After all, you’re only taking advantage of someone when they held feelings for you. You weren’t taking advantage of anyone but yourself in a very strange and very-late-at-night logical way of thinking.

 

“ _Vous ne le regretterez pas, mon ami_.”

 

 

 

And so, this led to your newest predicament.

 

You were in a sex-only relationship. No feelings need apply.

 

You had feelings in a sex-only relationship.

 

Count on you to be the one to fuck this up. You figured that you could calm your feelings for the two men - it could only be lust, right? - and so you accepted Spy’s proposition.

 

You realized you were in deep when you stared up at the ceiling of Spy’s impressive quarters, Sniper’s lanky, Australian arm encircling your waist while Spy returned the favor on Sniper’s other side. You had been tracing strange patterns into the skin of his arm before he feel asleep, Spy soon following his partner’s lead. You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep, however, and so you laid there, awake, the expensive sheets looking around your abdomen as you realized how stupid you are.

 

Why did you go up to the nest that day?

 

You gently removed Sniper’s arm from your person before quietly getting out of the bed and collecting your garments, leaving the bed made for two.

 

The imprint you left on the mattress was gone by morning.

 

The routine you slowly started to destroy was patched up as Spy and Sniper slowly started to worm their way back into your life.

 

There were no immediate changes, aside from your regained ability to hold a conversation and maintain eye contact.

 

There was immediate contact, however.

 

Subtle things, little touches that could’ve easily been confused with accidental brushes. Little fingers brushing your palms, nails skittering across your elbow, your hips briefly being held - a petting motion, on occasion - or knees knocking under tables.

 

Subtle things turned into little bold actions over time. Hands attracted to your lower back like opposite ends of a magnet, stray breaths from words already spoken blew past your ear in cold puffs, and fingers grasping the meat of your thigh (you were so sure that your skin was so adjusted to their grabby hands that it had developed creases in your skin that would never go away and that were conveniently Spy and Sniper shaped for their handprints).

 

When you showed up to try your luck in a game of cards, Sniper always patted the seat next to him.

 

When Spy offered you a glass of his “costs-more-than-you-and-your-brother-combined” wine, he would always pour the wine for you and take care of the glasses afterwards, ignoring your protests.

 

When it was just you and Sniper on the couch, Sniper would stubbornly hold your body as close to his chest as humanly possible. Spy was no different.

 

When you went to set up the couch for the night, Spy and Sniper would eagerly pull you away to Spy’s quarters and abandon the sheet that, more often than not, would fall out of your hands and fall on the floor with half of it strewn about the couch randomly.

 

When you would lay in bed (you always made a point of “collapsing” on the side of the bed that was closest to the door), waiting for the two men to fall asleep before gathering your clothing, put them on, and flee the scene of the crime as quietly as possible in favor of the couch, you could almost swear you could feel a heat spread across your back as you fled, not unlike the feeling one gets when they are being stared down.

 

The sex was great, though.

 

Sniper was a nibbler, through and through. Most of the love bites you received from your sessions were from him. His favorite spot was your hip for some strange reason, your neck was high up on the list though. The moment when his teeth pierced your skin just enough for your skin to bruise and throb.

 

Spy was always close behind, his tongue licking the aftermath inflicted by Sniper’s teeth. Spy was the type to suck and kiss instead of bite and nip. His tongue would roll over your recently abused flesh and his breath chilled you. Your hickeys came from Spy as he sucked and kissed anywhere that wasn’t already claimed by Sniper. His favorite spot was your right shoulder, your left usually had a smug Sniper perched on it as he would admire his handiwork. Occasionally, the two would meet at your left shoulder and kiss, the sucking and slight moaning right next to your ear as you shivered from something other than the chill. The left side of your shoulder and neck was the only place on your body that contained a mixture of bites and hickeys.

 

Sniper was rough and passionate during intercourse. He’d grab you by the hips, make sure you were facing either him or Spy (preferably him) before thrusting in and out of your body, his damned teeth finding your flesh like a vulture to a corpse. Sniper put everything in his thrusts as his fingers gripping through your skin you’d have though he was gripping your very bones. He’d pant into your ear and praise you with quick yet sincere sentences. He sometimes came inside you, sometimes on your back or stomach or even your quivering thighs. He’d roll into his back and let Spy finish with what he was doing or, if Spy had already finished and Sniper was the “final act”, he would roll back and bring you with him.

 

Spy was a fucking tease. He’d caress you and whisper sweet nothings across your skin. He was slow and deliberate but once he got into the mood, he was as equally as passionate in the act as Sniper. Spy’s fingertips would ghost over your skin, his nails raked down your hips, lifting only when a bite came into its path. He took longer but once he finally got around to sticking his dick in you, your insides were met with nothing but precision and expertise, sweet nothings whispered harshly in a romantic language you knew not. He made sure to come on your skin, claiming to admire how his seed painted your flushed skin. He would clean up, unlike Sniper, and order you to bed with a knowing voice of what would happen later once you thought the coast was clear.

 

Sometimes, their would be days when one of you was simply to exhausted to fuck. When Sniper’s shoulder ached too much; he’d nip your jaw, kiss you and your forehead and unceremoniously plop into a nearby chair and hold a simple conversation with you before Spy gracefully tackles you into the bed.

 

When Spy’s back was much too sore from the BLU Scout’s stupid bat, he would hog the entire bed, completely uncaring that both you and Sniper were already laying down. Spy would lay his head down in Sniper’s lap while threading his fingers with yours. Sniper would cradle Spy’s neck cradled in his palm while his cheek was held in his free hand. Your own fingers were held captive by Spy while your free hand was fidgeting nervously with the covers.

 

There were only two bodies the days you were too tired for the usual activities.

 

Needless to say, the days Sniper or Spy were too tired to fuck were the days filled with warmth and tangled legs.

 

They were the days that made you realized just how fucked you were, in a less than literal sense.

 

 

You had collapsed on the plush sheets, truly and honestly exhausted from your previous group activities. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath and before you could roll over to claim your usual spot at the edge of the bed, Sniper situated himself there before you could say a word. Spy soon completed the cage by settling down on your other side.

 

Now, you lay awake, caged in with no escape in the wee hours of the morning. Hours you normally spent sleeping on the couch. Now, you spent them remembering your fatal mistake in collapsing on the middle of the bed, practically inviting your other partners to fall on either side of you.

 

Sniper had his arms around the back of both yours and Spy’s heads, his arm barely touching the hair on your head. His other arm slouched off your hips, his palm flat against your abdomen as he slept.

 

Spy had his face pressed into your shoulder, one arm pressed between his chest and your own arm while his other arm was draped just underneath your chest.

 

You stared into the darkness around you, the early rays of sunlight unable to grace your guilty presence due to the curtains surrounding the nearby windows. Your cheeks slowly grew wet with each passing tear and you cursed yourself as you wiped the water away.

 

“ _Shit_.” You whispered under your breath as your hand came over your eyes, stopping your tears from speeding down the rest of your face. You didn’t want to soil Spy’s sheets with your guilt.

 

You must’ve woken up Spy from your slight movements (he always was the lightest sleeper) and you could feel his lips brush against your shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?” He asked.

 

“For waking you. For leaving. For going up to the nest. For avoiding you. For sleeping with you. For everything.” You sobbed.

 

Spy grabbed the hand you had plastered on your own face, gently handling it so your whole arm was cradled in his own arms, his lips pampering your hand with kisses.

 

“ _Ne t'excuse pas_.” He whispered against your skin.

 

“I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t help but repeat yourself as you quietly cried, still very much away of the still slumbering presence next to you. “I’m so sorry I fell in love with you.”

 

Spy paused.

 

You kept sobbing apologies, unable to say any other words but “I’m sorry” as you repeated yourself over and over.

 

“I didn’t mean to.” You said, trying to force your voice to seem more collected despite knowing how bad of a liar your body could be. “But you both were so nice to me and you helped me and, hell, you two are handsome and-“ you were rambling at this point and you couldn’t help the loud sob that tore through your voice.

 

Sniper’s arm that was lazily perched on your stomach, readjusted itself so he was wrapped around your waist.

 

“There I go again. Fucking woke the both of you up.”

 

Sniper stayed quiet as he nuzzled his way into your hair.

 

“ _Non_ , _non_. _Ne_ _t'excuse_ _pas_.” Spy murmured as his fingers gripped your shaking hand tighter. “ _Non_.”

 

Now that Sniper was awake, you tore your free arm out from between you and him and wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.

 

“I’m so sorry.” It was like a mantra at this rate, and the only words you knew at the moment apparently.

 

Sniper kissed the top of your head while his occupied hand started to knead the skin of your hip in a comforting manner.

 

“We wouldn’t have asked ya to join us if we didn’t have some kind of feelings for ya in return.” Sniper said, quietly, as though he was afraid his voice would shatter the silence. “We asked you to join us because we were curious, mate. Curious what the hell we was feelin’ when we already had each oth’a.”

 

“ _Oui_.” Spy said against your skin, his voice rumbled. “This time we ‘ave spent with you has made us realize that we also ‘old a flame for you.” You sniffed in disbelief but didn’t protest.

 

“This time we’ve spent together has just made us realize how deep we had it for ya.” Sniper chuckled. “In the mornings, Spook would always stare at the door, waiting for ya to come barging through and join us in the bed.”

 

“It was ‘ard resisting the urge to stop you from walking out that door.” Spy defended himself, his head lifting up slightly to glare at the other man.

 

“I’m sorry.” You murmured, resting the back of your hand against your forehead as though all of your sobbing exhausted you.

 

Sniper leaned down further to kiss your palm before he stopped and simply rested his chin atop your head.

 

“So,” you gulped, trying to collect your voice and make it seem calmer “what was your verdict?” When no on answered you immediately stumbled on words to try and elaborate. “I mean, you said that you proposed this whole arrangement as a test of sorts, yeah?” They nodded. “Well, what was the- the verdict?” You stammered.

 

There was another pause.

 

“I love ya.”

 

“ _Oui_ , _je_ _t'aime_ aussi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon Ami - my friend  
> Excusez-Moi - pardon me, excuse me  
> Oui - yes  
> Je m’excuse - I apologize  
> Quelle - what  
> Non - no  
> Vous ne le regreterez pas - you will not regret this  
> Ne t’excuse pas - Don’t apologize  
> Je t’aime aussi - I love you too


	5. hypothermia (Sniper/Reader/Spy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking blizzards, man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> v. “hypothermia” (SFW) Sniper/Reader/Spy
> 
> character notes : Reader’s gender is left unspecified :) 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your kudos and your comments! I may not have gotten the chance to respond to them yet but please know that I do appreciate them and I have read them, like, fifty times over! I’m getting ready to go back to educational hell but I’m trying to get some chapters out for you before then. That's why I haven’t been able to respond to those beautiful comments D: Hope you guys have been enjoying these little one shots so far! <3
> 
> I’m open for requests! ;)

 

 

Coldfront could suck the Devil’s dick and choke on it, splitting the bastard’s throat in two.

 

Snow, you could deal with, it was pretty when the light reflected off of a light layer of freshly fallen snow. You liked snow.

 

You did not sign up for blizzards and six-foot-deep snow that you had somehow managed to walk through. You signed up for Teufort, not Coldfront.

 

And all for a supply run! There was a very, very small village just a few miles from the base. Every other week, you would trudge through this blasted snow, get some supplies, and walk back up to base.

 

It was especially frigid today; the snow was falling and the freezing, bitter wind blew hard, throwing the cold snowflakes in your face.

 

Before you left, many of the men from your team offered you articles of clothing to help with the rather insistent cold.

 

Heavy had offered you his coat as a second outer-layer. His coat easily wrapped around your body, even with your coat already on and buttoned-up. It kept the heat from the base warming your body for a few hours on your supply run before it disappeared and left you to fend for yourself.

 

Sniper offered his hat to you, said it might help with all the snow that seemed to fall from the sky without a care in the world. He took it from his own head, his hair slightly rumpled and undone from the hat, and placed it on your own with a loving grin as the lip of the hat covered your eyes in an almost childish manner.

 

Pyro followed you with insistent groans and muffled voices of concern as he waved and flapped around his spare pair of rubber gloves. Pyro even - bless his little heart - sat for forty minutes straight as you prepared breakfast, still as a statue with the spare gloves held delicately in his own rubber-clad hands, just waiting for you to give in and snatch those gloves from his hands. You only took those gloves when you were already completely clothed and ready to brave the outside world. Pyro bounded up towards you and still clutched those gloves in his hands. You sighed, took the gloves and put them on before holding Pyro’s head in both your hands and kissing his forehead.

 

You were wrapped with a minimum of three layers, plus a large messenger bag for the bags your little hands could not carry, before you went out on the supply run.

 

You were thankful the owner of the store did not question your combination of Russian, Australian, and Pyro-ian clothing as you purchased your supplies.

 

You rewrapped your scarf around the lower half of your face and readjusted Sniper’s hat before grabbing the four heavy bags of supplies after shoving what supplies you could in the messenger bag. You grabbed your small amount of change, readjusting yourself yet again, before walking out the door and pausing, just staring at the tracks you left an hour ago, the snow already filling your tracks up. You looked at the sky and sighed.

 

“Please don’t give birth to a blizzard Mother Nature. I will cry.” You murmured, starting your long walk back home.

 

A little under halfway back to the base, Mother Nature shit a bitter and very, very cold blizzard all over your puny existence.

 

You were sure you were crying, but the negative degree weather may have frozen your tears to your skin. Fuck snow, man.

 

Your arrival back home would be prolonged even further as your steps felt heavier and your fingers freezed with the bags in your grip. Your breath was visible as you heaved your way back to the base, teasing you as an ever present reminder of the freezing temperatures.

 

The snow was starting to creep through your boots and melt into your socks, your toes sobbing along with you.

 

A little over halfway back home, you tripped. There was ice already forming over the terrain underneath all the snow and your foot just so happened to meet it. Before you knew it, your face was buried in snow and the contents of your bags was splattered in the white abyss.

 

If you weren’t crying before, you were definitely crying now as you lifted yourself up and started to gather the spilled supplies, the snow now melting through the doubles layers of pants and getting your knees slightly wet.

 

You picked up everything that you wcould find through the blizzard and got back to walking.

 

You were almost there, you could see the very roof of the building and that was enough to will your frozen legs to walk quicker. The blizzard slowed down ever so slightly although that fact didn’t help you much if your frozen skin had anything to say about it. Your breathing was heavy and labored and all you could focus on was the base. All you could think about was the warmth of a place called home.

 

You looked up briefly and saw some skinny thing waving his arms before he started to run towards you. It was Scout.

 

“(y/n)! ‘Ey, (y/n)!” He came bounding up to you, a baggy coat wrapped around his small body. Scout, immediately grabbed the bags from your frozen fingers and you sighed at the pain the action caused your frozen bones. “Doc!” Scout started calling behind him as he grabbed your arm in a meager but very much appreciated effort to keep you from falling. “Medic!”

 

Medic practically broke down the front door as he came to you, the worried heads of Pyro and Spy peeked out from the doorframe and they immediately withdrew when they recognized your shivering body.

 

Medic scooped you up in his arms and Scout scurried back into the base, depositing the bags on the floor next to the door, quickly shedding his coat (you managed to recall a memory where he made a huge fuss about wearing one, said they restricted his movements too much, when the team was packing for the trip to Coldfront. The occasional base-migration). Medic quickly brought you inside and to the showers and passed you over to Spy and Pyro who were already waiting for you with the shower running.

 

“Not too hot! Ve don’t vant zhe body going into shock.” You heard Medic order as he gently peeled your wet clothing away and revealing your shivering skin. “I think zhis is Hypothermia.” He murmured.

 

You didn’t black out, thanks to sheer willpower, and managed to greet everyone with a shivering twitch of your lips, trying to form a smile. “H-h-hi.” You whispered.

 

Medic shushed you immediately as he peeled away Pyro’s spare gloves and placed them in a pile away from the water’s spray.

 

Pyro held onto you, cradling your head in between his rubber-clad hands as he stared at Medic’s hands as they peeled away your clothing, layer by layer. He was oddly still and was oddly quiet. You tilted your head up and smiled at him which urged him to slowly and gently pat your damp head.

 

Spy, in a button-up and probably the least expensive pair of pants he ever owned, was crouching by the water collecting the droplets in a small rag, which he later used to slowly apply heat to your body. The water was warm and you wished it was boiling.

 

“S-so,” you managed to say through the chattering of your teeth “any-anything c-c-cool happen while I-I-I was g-go-gone?” Geez, you must’ve been colder than you had originally thought.

 

Spy chuckled and Pyro shook his head saying something.

 

“What our _petite_ _luciole_ is saying is that we ‘ave planned a movie night, of sorts.” Spy chipped in, letting the water from his rag run down your arm before moving to your shoulder, very pleased with himself as your skin started to turn into a more healthy color.

 

“Wh-wh-what movie?” You asked.

 

“ _Bitte_ , shut up.”

 

You chuckled and shrugged your shoulders. You were proud of yourself with how smooth the action was. Your body was starting to warm up.

 

Medic kept removing and folding your clothes while Spy followed close behind with a washcloth. Neither of them really minded your nudity as they had seen it all before but Pyro...

 

You tilted your head and looked at him with a sheepish smile.

 

“Are you okay?” You whispered, as though there weren’t two other grown men who could hear you just fine.

 

Pyro nodded and lifted one of his hands and covered the tinted glass on his mask. He then made a thumbs up gesture with that same hand before returning it to its position under your head and tangled in your hair.

 

“You innocent little thing.” You joked as you realized he must’ve been saying that his eyes are closed and that you had nothing to worry about. You didn’t mind if he was looking or not, you felt that you were fairly average for your gender but you appreciated Pyro’s gesture regardless.

 

The four of you fell into silence, the soft pitter-patter of all of those water droplets falling from the shower head and onto the floor, down the drain. Medic soon stood and gathered all of your clothing.

 

“It looks like nothing fatal has happened with your body. You should recover relatively quickly.” Medic informed you. “I vill bring you some clean clothing and you vill not be cooking dinner tonight.”

 

“No cooking d-dinner?! Wh-what the h-hell, Medic?!” You shouted and immediately reclined back in Pyro’s lap, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you grimaced. You accidentally bit your tongue while trying to speak through your body’s insistent shivering.

 

“ _Ja_ , _schadenfreude_ , _mein_ _freund_.” Medic grinned before he left with a slight wave of his hand.

 

“He knows me t-too well.” You complained,your tongue throbbed dully with pain.

 

Pyro pat your head again in sympathy and Spy simply laughed as he continued down your chest with the rag after he had finished wiping down both your arms.

 

“It’s s-still kinda chilly i-in here.” You whispered, flexing your fingers slowly. You had been clutching onto four bags, two for each hand, for who knows how long, you were surprised that your joints were only a little sore.

 

“It will take awhile for you to completely warm up, _mon_ _amour_.” Spy said, leaning over to the shower head to refill the rag with lukewarm water before slowly going down your abdomen and brushing over your sides.

 

You reached up and grasped the front of Pyro’s hand, holding it gently as you tilted your head to look at Spy. You reach your other hand down and grasped gently at the fabric of Spy’s damp pants.

 

“I’m not go-gonna lie.” You murmured. “I kinda hate nature now.” You pouted. “I may also have some P-PTSD happening, now.”

 

Spy scoffed, patting the rag around your thighs now. Pyro moved his hand so it was holding yours now. You looked up at smiled at him, not really knowing or caring if his eyes were still (or ever) closed.

 

“I am just glad that you did not die out there. This blizzard took us by surprise.”

 

“Now, I am p-positive I did some crying.” You laughed and Spy shook his head, the rag refilled and now on your calf.

 

“ _Je_ _suis_ _juste_ _content_ _que_ _tu_ _vas_ _bien_.” Spy murmured under his breath.

 

Pyro made an affirmative noise and you looked up at him quizzically.

 

“Py, you know French?”

 

Pyro shrugged his shoulders as he said something.

 

“Enough? Enough for what, Py?” You wrinkled your brows at him in confusion.

 

Pyro explained himself and you grinned himself.

 

“Awww! Py, that’s so sweet!” You removed your hand from his and tapped the end of his mask. “I-I’m sure it will all work out.”

 

Pyro nodded at you and you thought you saw those tinted lenses twinkle with something.

 

Then again, Medic did just diagnose you with some minor Hypothermia.

 

Spy kept quiet throughout the exchange but he did look up with interest at the end of it. Nonetheless, he did not press on the conversation and he finished warming your body with the lukewarm water, dabbing at your toes and chuckling when you squealed in surprise.

 

“ _Fini_.” Spy smirked as he pat your hand that was still grasping his pant leg. He then reached over and turned the shower off.

 

As if right on cue, Medic came in with a pile of fresh and clean clothing.

 

“Are ve finished?” Medic grabbed a nearby towel, placing the new clothes down in a dry area.

 

“I’m still kinda cold.” You said quietly, almost disappointed in your body for not warming up enough.

 

“No vorries, _mein_ _freund_. You vill be completely varmed up soon.” Medic kneeled down and started to dry your arms, chest, stomach, and legs. You noticed he had taken off his usual lab coat and he looked more casual without it.

 

“Can I have some clothes now? I think Py’s sick of keeping his eyes closed for so long.” You smiled sheepishly. You weren’t used to being naked in front of three people at the same time. Two yes, but three? That was something you had to work towards.

 

“ _Ja_ , _ja_.” Medic waved your inquiry off as he started to manhandle your body so he could dry it completely. “I see you have stopped chattering.” He noted casually and you nodded. “Still shivering, which is normal.” You sighed this time. “Stop sulking, don’t be such a baby.” Medic removed the towel from your now mostly dry body and gently hitting you over the head with it before standing up and retreating to get your clothes.

 

You mumbled something under your breath and Pyro giggled. Spy stood up and adjusted his soaked clothing.

 

“It is good to know we have our caretaker back.”

 

“Careful, Spy. Your inner softie is showing.” You chuckled as Spy sighed.

 

“Alright, up.” Pyro helped steady you as you stood back up on wobbly legs, your fingers clutching at his suit for dear life. Spy came up to place a hand over your lower back - for balance or for comfort, you weren’t sure.

 

Once you regained your balance, Medic started helping you redress. The process was slow, as though you were an infant trying to dress yourself for the first time and it made you kind of angry.

 

“I’ve been doing this for years and now I’m having difficulty? Fuck you.” You grumbled to yourself as you put on the undergarments he gave you.

 

“ _Hab_ _geduld_.” Medic scolded you. “You lost body heat faster than your body could maintain. It’s natural to be clumsy again.”

 

“I’m holding a grudge against nature.”

 

Medic chuckled as he adjusted the shirt on your body so it was comfortable. The shirt was basic, like some old shirt one would wear to bed. It was gray with short sleeves and a simple collar.

 

You slipped on the pair of sweatpants he gave you with Pyro’s hands over your hips for balance. You held onto Spy’s shoulder for good measure. The pants were black with a simple white drawstring, they were baggy but they kept heat in well.

 

“Um, what about the supplies?” You asked.

 

“Scout took them from you, don’t you remember?”

 

“Oh. I guess I was so relieved I made it back to base that I forgot.” You sheepishly chuckled.

 

Pyro transferred you over to Spy, who quickly wrapped an arm around your waist.

 

The four of you walked out of the showers.

 

The format of the RED base in Coldfront wasn’t really all that different from your usual base in Teufort. Although there was a heater shoved in every nook and cranny and blankets and hoodies messily deposited everywhere.

 

You walked into the living room where most of the rest of the team sat. When they saw Medic and Pyro enter the room before you, their heads practically snapped up to watch you gobble through the doorway.

 

Sniper was the first to get up and walk towards you.

 

You were transferred yet again, Spy’s arm retreated and was replaced with Sniper’s while your grip on Spy’s wet button-up was given to Sniper’s sweater.

 

“You alrigh’ there, _Roo_?”

 

“Yeah, just a little chilly.”

 

Spy kissed your head before withdrawing and stating that he will be going back to his room to change. Sniper stole a kiss from him before he left.

 

Sniper guided you back over to the couch, ignoring your protests of “the feeling cane back, I can walk by myself” and “c’mon Snipes, I can walk just fine”. He sat at the end and you sat right next to him.

 

The rest of the team swarmed around you almost immediately after you sat down.

 

Scout wormed his way right next to you and into your personal space. Normally, you would’ve told him to back up but today you could make an exception.

Pyro sat on the floor, looking at you through those tinted lenses while Engie occupied a rocking chair near the couch. Soldier leaned down from the back of the couch and Demo squirmed in next to him. Medic calmly took a seat at the far end of the couch.

 

“I’m alive?” You casually joked.

 

For some reason, the three children that squirmed in closest to you wanted to hear the story of how you survived. They all had crazy stories and you just leaned back and whispered to Sniper, “all I did was keep walking.”

 

Sniper laughed loudly.

 

You managed to steer the conversation away from you and about the mercenaries.

 

Scout was boasting and bragging, Soldier was yelling, Demo retreated to the kitchen when his bottle was empty, Engineer was chuckling, Medic was listening, Pyro scooted back to sit beside Engineer’s chair and grabbed onto one of the pieces of wood, casually rocking the chair. You stared at Pyro with a look of complete and utter confusion as he acted as though what he was doing was normal. Engineer didn’t really protest.

 

“What a sec, where’s Heavy?” You asked Sniper.

 

“Ah, he’s in the kitchen.”

 

“He better not be making dinner.” You said quietly, ready to leap up and take his spot if he was cooking. “That’s my job...”

 

Spy came in through the door with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You had started to move over to allow some room but Sniper snaked an arm around your waist that kept you from moving. You looked at him in question but he just kept his gaze locked on the scene in front of him. Spy walked up to the couch turned around and sat down before you, he stretched his long legs in front of him and crossed them.

 

“Ohmygod.” You exclaimed, scooting back over so your hip touched Sniper’s again. Spy looked up and over his shoulder at you. “Spyissittingonthefloor.” You laughed, your knees knocking against Spy’s back and side. 

 

“ _Oh_ _mon_ _Dieu_.” Spy sighed, taking the cigarette away from his lips and releasing a puff of smoke.

 

The living room was merry and the blizzard outside calmed down ever so slightly, the snow still scrapped against the windows but they started to stick to the glass and melt away from the warmth inside. Scout and Pyro shared a fuzzy - and no doubt rather scratchy - quilt and were discussing something you couldn’t quite make out. Demo and Soldier were chattering and laughing loudly while Engineer was chatting calmly with Medic, something science-y no doubt. You stayed quiet, content to watch the delightful scene before you as it unfolded. Sniper had his left arm folded around the back of the couch and his cheek was supported in his right fist. Spy hadn’t moved nor spoken since your earlier laughing fit, aside from occasionally removing his cigarette to exhale.

 

You shivered.

 

Sniper looked down at you and you saw his foot gently nudge Spy.

 

“ _Excuse_ - _moi_ , Pyro, but could you ‘and me one of those blankets?” Spy asked after Sniper nudged him.

 

Pyro looked up from his conversation with Scout and nodded happily. He reached around Engineer’s chair and fished out another thick blanket from the basket it was contained in. He tossed it over to Spy who caught it single-handed and then handed it over his shoulder to Sniper.

 

Sniper wrapped the blanket around himself in a cocoon before looking at you with a grin on his face, patting his lap.

 

You looked around the room and your nerves were slightly calmed when everyone was still engaged in their conversations. You were still getting used to the idea of public affection, despite the fact that the entirety of the RED team knew of your relationship and were fine with it (Pyro followed you around and give you a daisy chain. You later found out Pyro had given two other daisy chains to both Sniper and Spy). But you were still hesitant when it came to public affections; you held hands under the table or blankets, kissed when no one was looking, slapped your partners when they made sly comments and so on. The Administrator didn’t approve of friendships and you were quite sure that the closest friend she had was Miss Pauling.

 

You looked at Sniper with a raised eyebrow and he tapped his fingers against your hips, that devilish smirk still on his face.

 

You sighed, still hesitant, but that drumming on your hip was driving your crazy. With Sniper’s assistance, you managed to slide into his lap with minimum damage.

 

You were rather small compared to the sheer height of the skinny man. This fact was painfully obvious as you sat there with Sniper’s arms encircling your waist, the edges of the blanket in his grip, and his nose meeting with the crook of your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin.

 

Spy, you noticed, had also moved so he was seated directly in front of you and Sniper, trapping himself between both of your legs. When he tilted his head back, he was practically in your lap just as you were seated in Sniper’s. You reached your hands down and cradled his masked face in the palm of your hands, your thumbs idly caressing the material of his balaclava as you smiled down at him.

 

You looked up for a moment and saw Pyro staring you down while Scout had wormed his way in Soldier’s and Demo’s conversation. You paused in your movements and just stared at those mysterious lenses, frozen for some unknown reason. Pyro tilted his head at you before his shoulders started moving up and down and you figured he must have been giggling.

 

Before you knew it, Pyro turned around and tackled Scout.

 

“‘Ey, Py, what ‘da fuck, man?!” Scout made a fist and ground it into Pyro’s skull. Whether or not it hurt, Pyro gave no indication whatsoever.

 

Heavily filtered sounds filled the room and Scout looked at you, begging you to translate and completely ignoring your own situation.

 

“He says that he’s cold, Scout.” You helpfully translated.

 

“Fuckin’ hell, Py.” Scout sighed dramatically, bring a hand to his face and groaning.

 

Despite all of his complaining, Scout and Pyro readjusted the quilt so it cocooned the both of them inside.

 

“Don’t be gettin’ the wrong idea. I ain’t no homo.” Scout grumbled.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing you said ‘no homo’, Scout, otherwise you would’ve had us worried!” You laughed. “Oh yeah, Medic mentioned that you guys were planning a movie night?”

 

“Affirmative, Private!” Soldier responded.

 

“Although, we haven’t really gotten any idea on what ‘ta watch, now.” Engineer chipped in.

 

“Well, what kinda movies do we have at this base?” You asked.

 

“Vell, ve have zhese movies right here.” Medic got up from his spot on the couch and walked towards a small pile of movies next to the television. “Ve figured, as our _Hausmeister_ , you ought to take a look.” Medic picked up the pile and brought them over to you.

 

Spy straightened up and Sniper removed his head from your neck before Medic stood next to Spy’s placement on the floor.

 

“Body heat.” Was all Sniper murmured when Medic looked at them in question and amusement.

 

You elbowed him gently in his abdomen and took the movies, looking over the covers of the tapes. You recognized almost all of them.

 

“Py, you don’t like horror do you?” Pyro made a negative noise. “Scout, do you like romances?”

 

“Only between me and Miss Pauling.” He scoffed.

 

You rolled your eyes and continued on, handing over some of the movies you weren’t going to watch.

 

“Anybody against drama?” No one answered. “Heavy! Do you like dramas?!” You shouted.

 

“ _нет_! They usually make me sad.” Was the response. Scout scoffed again as you handed Medic a couple more excluded movies.

 

“Fair enough.” You murmured, looking through the remaining movies. “Anyone opposed to comedy or action?”

 

Scout immediately piped up when you mentioned the last genre. Soldier also agreed that action would be best and there was no words of disagreement from the rest of the team. You shouted again to Heavy in the kitchen and he agreed to watch an action movie. Everyone agreed and so you began explaining the summaries of the two action movies.

 

The team agreed on the last movie you described, _The_ _Magnificent_ _Seven_.

 

Medic took the chosen movie and deposited the other ones by the television, setting it up for the film. Everyone stared at the television screen in anticipation before you cleared your throat and started yelling again.

 

“Heavy! Come in here, it’s an emergency!”

 

Heavy appeared from the kitchen doorway in a matter of moments, peering at you from the back of the couch.

 

“What is matter, leetle caretaker?”

 

“I almost died today ‘cause Mother Nature shits out blizzards here.” You said. “I wanna hang out with my overgrown children.”

 

Everyone broke out laughing at that and you couldn’t help but chuckle at your humor.

 

Heavy shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, I’m coming.”

 

There was a gigantic blanket hidden beside a basket next to Engineer’s chair that was big enough for almost two king-sized beds. You figured it could fit nine men and yourself easily.

 

You got everyone on the floor and the gigantic blanket was pulled out from its hiding place, unfolded and waiting to be draped around some bodies.

 

You sat in the middle of the floor grabbing at the blanket like a child would.

 

Heavy came in from the kitchen smelling like food and he radiates warmth like a heater. He sat down on the floor just behind you and everyone piled around him because, damn, he was a heater.

 

Medic managed to get the picture up - no matter which base you were migrating to, the televisions were always shit - and he fiddled with the knobs on the side of the T.V. for a moment before joining you and the other men on the floor. The blanket was brought down and draped around all the bodies for warmth.

 

You were sandwiched yet again between Sniper and Spy, both of your hands occupied by one of theirs. Sniper held yours as you sat in his lap and you held Spy’s as he lounged in your own lap. Pyro squirmed in beside you, dragging Scout along with him as they sat side by side. Heavy sat near the back and with his back propped up against the couch, Medic beside him. Engineer sat beside Spy while Demo and Soldier were beside each other, seated in front of Medic.

 

You laughed as both Scout and Soldier criticized the film throughout the whole two hours, Scout boasting how he could do much better than the men in the film and Soldier saying how they were nothing but civilians playing soldier.

 

Pyro occasionally tapped his rubber-clad fingers against your knee and you wondered for a brief moment if he even understood the movie at all.

 

You sighed in contentment at your situation, your body warm to the touch and your heart overflowing with adoration for your team and love for your partners.

 

You brought Sniper’s hand up to your lips and brushed your lips against his knuckles before kissing it and setting it back down.

You did the same to Spy’s gloves hand, brushing your lips against the material and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before setting it down.

 

You leaned back into Sniper’s chest and enjoyed the movie.

 

“Thanks guys.” You whispered.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> нет - no  
> ~  
> Bitte - please  
> Ja - yes  
> Schadenfreude - malicious joy , taking pleasure within one’s agony  
> Mein Freund - my friend  
> Hab Geduld - have patience  
> Hausmeister - caretaker  
> ~  
> Petite Luciole - little firefly  
> Mon Amour - my love  
> Je suis juste content que tub as bien - I am just glad that you’re alright  
> Fini - finished  
> Oh Mon Dieu - oh my God  
> Excuse-moi - pardon me , excuse me


	6. Scout (Sniper/Reader/Spy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scout needs to tell you something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vi. “Scout” (SFW) Sniper/Reader/Spy
> 
> character notes : Reader is a trans person! However I did my best to left their current gender identity left unknown! So, the Reader could be FTM or MtF. ALSO! And this is really important! Scout is FtM in this chapter! So please keep this in mind cause that is basically the plot for this! And there’s some Flashfire (or some real good friends Py and Scout) just so ya know.
> 
>  
> 
> BUT LET’S BE REAL WITH ME IT’S MOSTLY JUST SOME TEAM BONDING BAAAAAABBY!!
> 
> I am so sorry but these will get more self-indulging as I keep writing. OOF. I have a lot of chapters though where the Reader or Sniper or Spy or all or two of them help some of the characters will be titled with “canon character’s name”. 
> 
> (Also, for those who are concerned, Scout will not always be described as FtM throughout this fiction, I just recently discovered this headcannon thanks to AO3 tags and I loved it. So, I wanted to write a chapter where the Scout and Reader relate.)
> 
> As always, (sorry for my existence and the length of this chapter’s notes) ENJOY :D <33

 

   You were only a little worried when Scout asked you to come to his room later that evening. Going to his room was no big deal, hell he asked you that a little more often than was necessary, no, it was when he quietly walked into the kitchen a little before dinner, quietly tapped on your shoulder, and quietly whispered the request. 

 

Out of all of the words you could use to describe Scout, quiet was not one of them.

 

So, needless to say, you were a little worried.

 

After dinner, Scout tugged on Pyro’s arm and the two of them ran off. You watched them go with a bit of concern building up in your chest. You marked it off and shooed that damn worry away, for now.

 

You quickly finished your small dinner, washed your plate and set it to dry on the kitchen counter.

 

“I’ll be back!” You called as you, as casually as you could, made a run for Scout’s room.

 

You knocked thrice on the door.

 

You heard some shouting, Scout, and some muffled speech, Pyro, before the door opened and you slipped through.

 

Pyro closed the door behind you before sitting down next to Scout on the floor.

 

“Scout, you alright?” You gingerly asked as you lowered yourself to the ground before sitting down.

 

“Yeah, shit, yeah ‘m fine.” He waved you off while Pyro’s hands fiddled with the bottom of Scout’s shirt. You raised a brow and Scout slapped those prying hands away. “Chill!”

 

Pyro slumped, his back hitting one of the legs of the bed behind him.

 

“Should I ask?”

 

“Nah, don’t mind Py, he jus’ wants me to get this shit over with.”

 

Pyro made some defensive - but as always, incoherent - noises.

 

“‘Ey, c’mon, Py, chill. I ‘ppreciate the gesture but not yet!”

 

You were confused.

 

Scout leaned forward, his elbows resting on his crossed knees as he rubbed his face with his hands.

 

“A’ight, so you keep track’a everyone’s checkups, yeah?” You nodded. “Did ya know that Py always comes with me to mine?”

 

“Oooooooh. Is that why I saw Pyro chasing Heavy out of the infirmary with his axe.” You nodded and Scout chuckled.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m gettin’ there.” You smiled and gestures for him to get on with his story. “A’ight, so the reason Py goes with me to my checkups is for...” Scout trailed off, nervousness and his lack of knowledge regarding the English vocabulary limiting him.

 

Pyro chipped in.

 

“Comfort?” You clarified and Pyro nodded. “Scout, what are you trying to say?”

 

Scout breathed in and he shrugged. “Well, ya see, I wasn’t born a guy.” Pyro reaches over and tugged at Scout’s shirt again and he rolled his eyes before removing the shirt, Pyro snatching his baseball cap and headset before it was knocked away by the shirt. Underneath was a binder.

 

You gaped at the sight you saw and Scout simply shrugged away, looking at you with a need to be approved.

 

“Scout, I never would’ve known.” You said, inching closer to Scout. “You are like the image of masculinity, I never would’ve guessed!” Scout smiled at your compliment and you smiled back.

 

“Medic knows, right?” Scout nodded with a ‘yeah, no shit’ expression.

 

“I take it Py knows, too.” Pyro nodded, fiddling with Scout’s cap. “I’m sure I will hear that story eventually.”

 

“Does your Ma know?” Scout nodded.

 

“Holy shit, does Spy know?!” Scout hesitated, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. Pyro shook his head for him.

 

“WHAT?! What on Earth made you think you should tell me, before him?”

 

Scout, in a fit of embarrassment, grabbed his shirt and put it on. “‘Cause I hold ya in a high’a regard than him.” He scoffed. “He pro’ly already knows what with all the’ snoopin’ he does.”

 

“Scout...” You sighed, pat his knee before retreating to your previous position on the floor. “I’m not mad, it’s just - Spy is your dad. He has a right to know.” You offered a comforting smile and you saw Pyro snake a hand to his outer thigh, his middle finger just barely brushing against the material of Scout’s pants.

 

“It’s just, well, you’re like a second Ma to me. To all’a us on the team.” Scout paused. “I mean, you’re also... ya know.” Scout looked at you and made a ‘ya know’ rolling gesture with his hand.

 

“I guess that makes sense.” You murmured.

 

“I wanted to ask ya,” Scout started again after an infuriating elbowing session committed by Pyro “how did ya do it?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Out.” Was all Scout has to offer, a flush of embarrassment creeping over his cheeks.

 

Pyro told you, “come out of the closet”.

 

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth as you realized what Scout was asking of you. He needed your help.

 

No one on the team knew expect you, Medic, Pyro and possibly Spy.

 

It just occurred to you that you’ve never seen Scout strip down to skin when it came to those scorching hot days in Teufort. It just occurred to you that you’ve never really seen Scout shower without a menacing fire axe embedded in the doorway. So many things have just hit you in the head as so many mysteries surrounding Scout, with a Pyro occasionally tagging along, started to be solved and cleared up.

 

“It took a lot of practice speeches.” You admitted. “It took a lot of squirming out of situations too.”

 

Scout looked up at you as you kept speaking.

 

“The team may look at you differently for a bit but that’s natural. I’m sure they will all understand in due time.” Scout winced at the mere thought of rejection from teammates he lived and died with. “But realize that you’ve already found the most important factor in your journey.” Scout rolled his eyes at your ‘wisdom’ but was immediately drawn back in at your words.

 

“Wait, what do I got?”

 

You chuckled. “A Pyro.” You knocked your fist against Pyro’s knees and Scout rolled his eyes again.

 

Pyro made a happy, squealing noise from behind his mask, his rubber-clad gloves reaching out in opposite directions, grabbing your bicep and Scout’s wrist, pulling the both of you in suddenly.

 

You both made a surprised gasped as your faces sunk into the suit covering Pyro’s chest. You looked at Scout from the haze known as Pyro and saw him wrestling against Pyro’s grip. You laughed.

 

In the midst of tangling limbs, Pyro lost his balance and fell sideways. Scout was on the bottom of this pile while Pyro was in the middle, leaving you to tumble down and land on the floor next to Scout, your legs tangled with Pyro’d boots, the bottoms of the boots scrapping against your bare ankles.

 

You managed to get everyone calm and you all found a decent position on the floor. Scout was in the middle while Pyro was to his right, you to his left. A blanket had fallen from the bed during your tumble and Pyro snatched it, placing it over the three of you.

 

“This familiar territory for ya?” Scout wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you and you whacked him on the head for it.

 

“Oh, quit it.”

 

Scout smirked and Pyro made suggestive gestures next to Scout, earning in a howl of laughter from the runner. You couldn’t help but chuckled quietly.

 

“So, I’m a second Ma, huh?” You casually brought up.

 

“Yeah, well, ain’it part’a the job description? Team Ma for overgrown babies.” Scout giggled with Pyro and you sighed sarcastically.

 

“I’m honored.” You chuckled. “But, now I’m curious, who was the Team Mother before I came along?”

 

“Medic.” You laughed loudly with Scout and Pyro, burying your face in the crook of your arm as tears prickled at your eyes. “But now - now he’s been promoted to Grandma.”

 

“Owowowow. My sides.” You moaned with laughter as you clutched your sides. Scout had tears of joy running down his cheeks.

 

The room was filled with laughter as jokes and stories were exchanged between the three of you. The laughter grew louder before quieting, picking up in volume after words spilled from Scout’s lips.

 

All three of you had hurting abdomens and oxygen-deprived lungs by the time the room steadily grew quiet again.

 

“Thanks.” Scout whispered to the ceiling. “You ain’t so bad, chucklenuts.”

 

“Birds of a feather, flock together.” You assured.

 

Pyro grumbled something sleepily from Scout’s shoulder.

 

“Come on,” you sat up and offered your hand to Scout “it’s pretty late, now. Growing boys need their rest.” The look on Scout’s face almost made you tug him into a rib-crushing hug.

 

Scout took your hand and you tugged him up and on his own two feet. Pyro followed your actions only after some encouraging pokes with your toe in his side.

 

Pyro waved sleepily at the two of you before leaving to fall asleep with his own partially burnt blankets and pillows.

 

You bent down to gather the blanket before bundling it up and tossing it Scout who, unsurprisingly, caught it with ease.

 

“Get to bed, do whatever you need to do, and get some sleep.” You said.

 

Scout dove straight into his own bed, squirming in with the other pairs of blankets on his bed. You chuckled at how childish and energetic he was.

 

“Don’t forget your binder.” You reminded and Scout groaned in response.

 

You weren’t new to the transitioning ordeal, not by a long shot, and with that came the unfortunate events of Dysphoria when looking in the mirror. But looking back on those days, when you placed your body image before your health, you realized just how important taking care of yourself was.

 

“Scout, c’mon. Binder.”

 

“I’ll take it off late’a. Promise.”

 

“No.” You crossed your arms and Scout looked at you, clearly not buying what you’re selling. “Scout, trust me, leaving those things on for too long can hurt you.”

 

Scout groaned before he sat up and made a show of tossing the blankets covering his legs off. He really did embody a spoiled child in that moment as he briefly took off his shirt and started to fumble with the binder. After a good few minutes with no progress, you gingerly stepped towards him and helped remove the tight material, holding it carefully and placing it on the dresser nearby.

 

“Thanks.” He grumbled.

 

You couldn’t help but be drawn to look at his chest, so used to immediately looking at your own when standing in front of a mirror.

 

“No scars.” You absentmindedly noted, jealousy swirling in your gut.

 

“Medic did the procedure. Real good job, too.” Scout explained.

 

“Lucky you.” You smiled.

 

You shoved away that jealousy, ignoring it. You had gotten your own surgery before joining the RED team. Your scars were jagged and ugly, the skin raised around it as an ever present reminder of how much of a beginner the doctor was. They had only just now started to fade and here Scout sat, no scars or even a bit of raised skin. Realistic.

 

“Why do you still wear the binder?” You asked quietly as you held your hand out for Scout’s discarded shirt.

 

“Gift from my Ma. I guess I wear it just out’a habit, ya know?” Scout shrugged. “Anyways, ya happy now?” Scout jeered with a smug look on his face.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get going.” You waved him off and opened the door.

 

“Good night, Scout.”

 

“Good night, (y/n).”

 

You closed the door and started to walk down the hallway and lightly knock on Spy’s door.

 

The door opened and Sniper looked at you from the small crack the door created.

 

“Oh, g’day, Roo.” He greeted, his voice laced with sleep as he opened the door further to let you in. “Where you been?”

 

“Scout and Pyro wanted to hang out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

 

“ _Fermez la foutue porte, vous laissez tout l'air froid entrer_!” You heard Spy grumble from inside and both you and Sniper somehow resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

 

“May I?” You asked.

 

“Oh, right!” Sniper gestured for you to come in and you made a beeline for Spy’s extravagant bed.

 

Sniper closed the door and did the exact same thing, wrapping his arms around both you and Spy.

 

“ _Bonsoir, mon amour, maintenant ferme-la et va dormir._ ” Spy grumbled sleepily as he placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

 

“You heard the Queen.” Sniper whispered. “Night, Roo.”

 

“Goodnight Snipes, Spy.”

 

Spy groaned out a ‘good night’ in French.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fermez la foutue porte, vous laissez tout l'air froid entrer - close the damn door, you are letting all of the cold air enter
> 
> Bonsoir, mon amour, maintenant ferme-la et va dormir - good evening, my love, now shut up and go to sleep


End file.
